


The Grey Edge of Dawn

by Sasha713



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: F/M, Gen, apoca!fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-14
Updated: 2012-04-15
Packaged: 2017-11-03 15:08:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 31,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/382776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sasha713/pseuds/Sasha713
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trapped off world in the wake of an attack, Jack and Sam are forced on the run, trying to find a way to save the people who called the planet home... [Set some time after Sam returns to the SGC in season 9.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Apoca!fic. This is for Linda, who has been waiting for me to finish this story for a while now. Thanks for all the motivational nudges :D

 

Cold. Darkness. Fear. Breathes harsh, sawing in her chest, vibrating in her ears, the only real sound that was tethering her to reality.

Her heart was pounding, matching the shuddering booms that seemed to disjoint her very soul, rattling her, teeth on edge as she fought the waves of nausea that threatened to debilitate her, dragging her downwards in a pit of complete blackness. She fought to focus her eyes, squinting at the light that tried but failed to penetrate the depth of her eyelids, disallowing her from actually seeing anything but flashes of veiled colour that jolted past as she was moved.

Her eyes cracked open, the grittiness making them burn, forcing her to close them again with barely a glimpse beyond, a spitting fire shooting up orange sparks into the night, smoke making her heavy eyes water.

Panic vibrated through her, the moment threaded with a blinding uncertainty, a cold chill of some intangible threat crawling down her spine, making her very skin itch under the heavy BDU’s and equipment that she could feel like weights pressing downwards on her chest.

She fought to open her eyes again despite the black heaviness that pressed down on her, promising oblivion, but once more, the movement that seemed to dip and sway below her unhinged her from the rest of her body, making it hard to get her mind to engage enough to control something so innocuous as the opening of her eyes.

She felt a jolt, the pressure on her chest easing as the world tipped upwards, making her stomach clench against the need inside her to be sick and lose the contents, and she was suddenly on her back on a still, flat surface, hard, the edge of her vest digging into her, pinching her skin.

The stillness ratcheted up the fear inside her, the twist of her stomach compelling her to try to roll onto her side against the feeling.

“Shit.” A familiar voice echoed in her ears, drawing her back towards reality. She moaned, attempting to open her eyes again. A firm hand pressed to her shoulder, forcing her to stay down when she would have attempted to rise from her prone and _vulnerable_ position.

“Carter, just…don’t move. You’re okay. We’re safe.” His voice eased her, and she slumped back, perceiving a jerk of movement hovering over her, his hand not leaving her arm, and she used that as a still point, allowing herself to relax into the heaviness, and she sunk into oblivion.


	2. Running

_Three Hours Earlier _

It had begun like any other mission. Short walk up the ramp. Step through the Stargate. A new cultural introduction on the other side.

He was only there out of some diplomatic necessity, the people had needed some assurance that the Earth government was on board, and he remembered thinking that Daniel could give him the bullet points later to save him the boredom he would experience, accompanying the new and _improved_ SG-1 off world for the first time in what felt like forever.

He had felt a little disjointed in that moment, detached from the changed dynamic that was almost alien to him now. So different to how it had been before he had been bunted up to General.

It was unnerving at first, but then, Carter had smiled _that_ smile which told him so much without words and he had somehow known that the essential things hadn’t changed so much as they had _shifted_.

She’d been beside him since he had arrived at the SGC, stepping through the wormhole in synchronisation with him, her arm brushing his as she murmured “It’s good to have you here, Sir,” in a way that was clearly meant for his ears only.

It had kind of felt like coming home, even when everything went to hell…

 

***********

_“Who are they?” Jack asked, motioning to the dark group of people just beyond the large gates of the Council buildings, out in the night like some raging mob. He half expected to see pitch forks and big sticks with nails hammered into them amidst the light from burning torches. They were motionless, yelling obscenities each time a guard would pass, the guards ignoring the congregation of rebellious locals._

_“Citizens who oppose the government.” Carter said from beside him, leaning a little closer to say it under her breath._

_“Always someone opposing_ something _huh?” He murmured back, his arm brushing hers as they walked, following the scientist down the well-lit upper floors of the facility._

_“There is a militia group that have incited some of the locals to picket the political administration currently in charge. They are citizens who don’t agree with some of our policies. They would much rather support the militia group that sabotage our attempts at bettering our civilisation…” Salek explained amicably._

_“Militia group?” Jack asked with a raised brow._

_“I’m sure the Earthen’s don’t want to hear-” Durgan, the administrator of this little diplomatic visit, reprimanded stiffly._

_“Sure we do. I like a good tale of militant activity, don’t I, Carter?” Jack said, his sharp interest undermining the light, airy tone he’d used._

_“I’m sure you have similar problems, General O’Neill. Of groups forming in a bid to combat government decisions and structured adherence to the law. They are merely a group of civilians taking it upon themselves to decimate our leadership because of the belief we do not have their best interests in our minds and hearts.”_

_“We do have those_ special _cases.” Jack relented, still not particularly liking what he was hearing._

 _“There is no cause for concern. We do not force our people to agree wholeheartedly with our methods of advancement. They are free to express their dislike. If they were not, they would not have been able to form their movement to begin with. The leader is a revolutionary. He is extremely volatile and opinionated. Despite what Kalen believes, we wish for the betterment of_ everyone _on this planet.” Durgan continued indignantly._

_“They have come to dispute the news of your arrival here. They think you coming here is an omen of bad tidings to come.” Salek informed undaunted by the glare Durgan sent him, like he was merely saying something that gave him a measure of amusement._

_Jack raised a brow, glancing once more at the amassed picketers with their torches and their slung insults, targeted not at the current government, but at_ them _. He could make out snippets of what they were yelling through the barred gates of the facility, words like ‘Alien’ and ‘destroy’ and ‘evil’. All the cliché’s in the handbook._

_“I feel like I’m in the dark ages.” He murmured, gaining a forced smile from Carter._

**********

They had been separated from the rest of SG-1 when the head scientist of the facility, Salek, had lured Carter with a power source that was apparently far beyond that of what they had on Earth. Something that made a Naqadah generator seem like a generic triple-A battery.

_“It could be a potential hyper drive power supply, Sir.”_

He had opted to go with her, allowing the rest of the team to continue with the negotiations with the council.

*******************************

_“I am to escort Colonel Carter to the laboratory to examine the schematics for the diverse power unit as we discussed in our negotiation offerings.”_

_“Sounds like_ fun _.” Jack said, glancing at Carter and smiling brightly before looking back towards Salek, his gloved hands rested on the butt of his P-90, his fingers drumming there, noticing the expression on the scientists face._

 _“You wish to…_ accompany _us, General O’Neill?” He asked, seeming like he wanted to argue the very idea of his presence in his precious laboratory._ Scientists _._

_“Yeah. Sure. I’d like to take a look-see myself.” He said, glancing at Carter who was attempting not to smile._

_“Certainly.” Salek agreed without hesitation, but, Jack liked to think that he had a very good ability to read people, and the guy was_ certainly _unhappy that he would be joining him and Carter in the lab. Someone had to watch her six, and he liked the idea of it being him._

_“The rest of your team are expected in the Council Chambers to discuss what the next steps are in regards to our trade relations.” Durgan said stiffly._

_“Keep me posted.” Jack said, targeting his words at Mitchell, who gave a short nod and a stout ‘Yes, Sir,’ before the rest of the team continued on with the minister._

_“This way.” Salek said, motioning down an extremely long hallway towards what Jack assumed was the labs._

******************************* 

The moment Sam had seen the power adaptation potentials, he had known that whatever happened with these negotiations, she would be wanting to reverse engineer it. She had been unbelievably _giddy_ about the technology.

She was practically seething to get her hands on it without Salek hovering over her shoulder watching her every move and reaction to the device that he saw as merely a normality in his little community of off-world geeks.

“So, legit source of energy?” Jack asked as he leaned against the table she was now bent over, staring at a picture screen that was revealing portions of the device’s schematics and the control interface that was alien to Carter. _Not for long_.

She would work this out in a snap.

“As you can see, Colonel Carter, this device is extremely efficient.” Salek stated with a proud lift of his chin.

“Tooting your own horn a little there don’t you think, Doc?” Jack said with a raised brow, and Salek turned, clearing his throat, the colour on his cheeks heightening as he looked away from Carter –whom he had been staring at with a little too much awe- even avoiding Jack’s eyes. Jack would guess the man hadn’t been around too many women in his line of work,  -especially a woman as hot as Carter who knew what the hell he was blathering on about when it came to science.

“This is _amazing_.” She said, her voice a little breathy as if she had found her own personal Holy Grail.

“Seeing this reaction gives me a new perspective on this, Colonel. I have never seen such passion…”

“Oh yeah?” Jack asked, a little put out by the way that Salek was staring at Carter, as if he had found his one true flame or something ridiculous like that.

“Sir…” Carter chided, glancing up at him for a moment before her attention was dragged back down.

“Hey, _Slick_ …” He motioned to the other man whose eyes narrowed slightly.

“ _Salek_.” He corrected and Jack ignored him, catching the exasperated roll of Carter’s eyes as she fought the grin he _knew_ was close to billowing on her face. She ducked her head, focusing on the designs of Salek’s device again.

“Whatever. Mind if I have a moment with Carter here? _Alone_.”

Salek looked frozen for a moment, as if he was uncertain how to react to the request.

“Of course.-” He turned, paused, glanced at Carter once more, and then he hurried out, looking flustered.

“So…how many teeth am I going to have to pull by the time this is over?” he asked, leaning closer than was absolutely appropriate to her, feeling somehow better when he was next to her. It had been too long since he had been standing over her watching her six as she got distracted by alien technology.

“Sir?” She frowned, his words drawing her from her focused attention on the design on the computer screen.

“The negotiations. You’re gonna want one of these…uh…”

“Diverse supply units.” She offered with a nod.

“Yeah…you’re gonna want one of these to take home in your party bag, right?”

“ _Yes_ Sir.” She said as if the thought of leaving this out of the negotiations was absolutely ludicrous. “This device could power ten times as much as a Naquadah generator and you know what that means.”

“Sure. We can keep the lights on for longer.” He said smoothly, gaining a wry smile from her before she composed herself.

“More than that, Sir. This…is _revolutionary_.” She said, almost vibrating with unbridled excitement over the specs.

“Revolutionary you say. Well…” he tapped the side of the desk, glancing at the computer screen which was filled with detailed blue prints for the design and the uses of the device she was so hot over.

“I’ll take care of it.” He said, meeting her gaze, feeling a beat of feeling as her eyes softened on his face.

“This is better than a flower.” She said giddily, turning back to the screen again and Jack was left frozen for a moment to the spot.

**********

_Jack stepped through the wormhole, pausing as he stepped down into the plush hallways of the main facility on Kapeta, his eyes narrowing as he got his first look at the scientist Carter had told him about._

_“Sir, this is Salek, the head scientist here. Salek…this is General Jack O’Neill, my superior.”_

_“It is an honour, General.” Salek bowed his head slightly in respect before he turned back to Carter and brought a small purple flower out from where his hands had been held behind his back._

_“I offer you this gift. It is customary.” He explained, holding the flower out for her to take, his features colouring slightly. Obviously the man had a fondness for Carter. She was taken off guard for a moment before she took the offering with a moment of hesitation, smiling kindly at the other man._

_Jack suddenly felt like he’d been one-upped by the alien man._

**********

Before he could find the words to respond, there was a loud and shuddering _Boom_! from outside the chamber they were in, sending Carter sideways into him, her hand instinctively rising to lever herself against his chest, both of them staring at each other in surprise for a moment as they considered what exactly had just happened.

“Earthquake?” He asked lowly, hopefully, steadying her where she stood almost pressed against him. She straightened, her eyes landing on the side of his neck as if she was fighting to keep her eyes from his, a blush stealing up her cheeks before she composed herself and turned to the doorway, her hand still pressed to his vest, and he had the insane thought that maybe he should have worn less layers.

“No.” At that moment Salek came sprinting into the room and Carter almost jumped a foot away from him, the warmth of her leaving his side abruptly.

“Something is happening!” Salek said, eyes flashing with panic.

“What?!” Jack demanded gruffly, rounding the counter towards where Salek was standing, trembling and gasping for breath.

“I do not know. Someone is attacking. I think it is the rebel forces outside the gates.” He was searching for some reason for the sudden jolt from safety to danger.

“They had no weaponry that could account for that. Sir, I think that was an _air_ strike!” Carter said, their eyes meeting, the telling glint in her gaze saying so much.

“You have got to be kidding me.” He muttered disbelievingly. An air strike only meant one thing. Someone was attacking, and it wasn’t the rebels. These people had no flight technology as of yet despite their advanced power devices.

“We are not capable of that.” Salek revealed with wide eyes.

“It’s an attack from space.” Jack said with jolting certainty, jogging towards the doorway just as his radio crackled in his ear. He tapped the side of his com.

“ _Jack, the government building is under attack!_ ” Daniel’s voice muttered over the line, and he could tell by the way he spoke that he was _running_.

“What the hell happened?” Jack demanded sharply, angrily. He really hated when things started to surprise him.

“ _I don’t know… one minute we were discussing the terms of the negotiations, the next, the wall was caving in. I made it out but only because I was coming to find you. A group of Jaffa just stormed the place._ ”

“Jaffa?! For crying out loud. Do you know who they are working for?”

“ _No._ ”

They fought to find their way through the maze of hallways to the Council chambers, pieces of ceiling littering the floor, gaping holes above sending light filtering though, revealing plumes of acrid smoke.

Across the courtyard, the council building smouldered, most of the council members and almost all of SG-1 being led onto the ships beyond the destroyed building, and Jack cursed under his breath as he pressed his back to the wall, avoiding being detected by the Jaffa soldiers who were herding them like unruly cattle.

“I must warn someone.” Salek said, before he turned, retreating down one of the hallways. Jack started to reach for him, to stop him from doing something rash and getting himself killed, but it was already too late. The man was scared. And he was gone. He turned to Carter, casting her a humourless smile.

“Just like old times.” He muttered, before motioning her around the other way, towards the council building. Daniel hadn’t been with the rest of SG-1. So where was he?

“Daniel, come in.” Jack murmured into his radio once they had found a relatively safe place, Carter watching to ensure their position wasn’t compromised.

“ _Jack_.” Daniel’s voice echoed, hushed, as if he was hiding as well.

“What’s your position?” He responded, waiting, meeting Carter’s eyes across the small space between them.

“ _Hiding. What’s yours?_ ” Daniel asked, a note of something close to sarcasm tinging his calm voice. They’d all been too close to situations like this before. It didn’t seem so out of the ordinary anymore. Jack refused to think of how much more comfortable he felt like this, in the shadow of peril, rather than at the pentagon with the stuffed shirts and politicians who could give even the worst bad guys a run for their money. This felt like… _routine_ in comparison.

“Can you meet us?” Jack asked, ignoring the bite of sarcasm in the Archaeologist’s voice.

“ _Well…you’ll have to tell me where you are first._ ” He replied, strained.

“Near the Council chambers.” Jack responded, pressing his palm to the door to open it a notch, his eyes skimming the hallway, ducking back as a patrol marched past towards where the Stargate was situated. He cursed under his breath.

“A patrol just headed towards the Stargate.” He threw over his shoulder on a low voice, seeing the resignation on Sam’s face.

She didn’t say the obvious. Jack pressed his com again, murmuring to Daniel his location to make it easier for him to find them. They had to make a plan of escape. If not through the Stargate, at least out of the facility which seemed to have become the mecca for Jaffa activity.

He could still hear the bombs going off outside the facility, the booms shuddering the ground, further away now, as if they had been focusing their attack on the buildings of the government before they would radiate their air strike outwards to the rest of the city.

He eased back from the door, waiting for Daniel to meet them.

*******************************

She was running beside him. Or at least she had been.

He turned as she went down, the electric surge of a Zat debilitating her, and she fell to the ground, out cold, her head hitting with a crack that made him flinch. He turned instinctually, dropping to his knee beside Carter and pointing his 9 mm handgun, taking out the two Jaffa who had attacked them, turning as Daniel jogged back to their side.

“Help me. We need to get outta here.” He said. Daniel helped him hoist the unconscious Carter up, both of them managing to get her out of the building and into the tortured street, the pavement outside the facility uprooted from the blasts that had rained down in the recent attack from the air, small blazes burning at random points along the darkened street, the gate that had earlier kept the picketing locals out now warped and broken –their way out of the compound made free from the brutal attacks, facilitating their escape.

They placed her down beside a vehicle that was very similar to Earth technology in the form of a car. They ducked down behind it, both protectively hovering over Carter who was flat at their feet.

He reached out and kneaded his fingers through her hair, feeling the swell of a lump from her fall, but coming away with no blood which was always a good sign if you asked him. He wouldn’t even begin to contemplate internal bleeding. She’s hit her head so many times over the years, he would have thought it was impervious by now…

“I’ll go across the street and keep watch. Let me know when she comes to and we can try to get the _hell_ out of here.” Daniel said, moving swiftly, and Jack closed his mouth. He had been about to suggest just that. He guessed that after all these years; some things just came naturally to all of them. Even Daniel.

Jack turned, looking down at Carter whose head was lolled on the ground; his eyes assessing her features for any other injuries from her fall after the Zat blast had hit her.

But truthfully that was just an excuse. It had been too long since he had seen her, and seeing her in the thick of it, back in action with her, he realised it was more scary that he had remembered to see her fall.

After that, he hadn’t been too shocked when things had turned from bad, to _very_ bad. Because Daniel had decided to join the rest of SG-1 –captured by the enemy, and getting Carter off the street had become his main priority…


	3. Safety

He had somehow managed to get her upstairs into one of the buildings, off the street and away from the fires and the Jaffa who were searching the area for any and all people to imprison. He had carried her here, fighting to ignore the strain in his knees and the underlying truth that he had probably been too far gone out of the field for much too long, placing her on a bed that sat unused amidst a home now deserted, robbed of its inhabitants.

She awoke barely twenty minutes later, her eyes darting around with confusion, eyes glassy from concussion, body tensed with wariness. She found him crouched down beside her, her eyes assessing his features as if she would find the evidence of what had happened in his expression.

“Where are we?” she asked with a frown, her brow furrowing as she tried to sit up. He clamped a hand on her shoulder to ease her back down, forcing her to relax despite her best effort to remove herself from her horizontal position.

“Inside. Off the street.” He murmured on a hushed tone, glancing towards the window that looked out onto the street where they could faintly hear the shouts of the invading Jaffa and the screams of their prisoners and victims as they attempted to flee the attacking soldiers. A sound he could safely say he would like to go without hearing ever again in his life. The sound of innocents being victimised.

“Relax Carter. You took a pretty hard hit back there.” He said calmly, keeping his voice low. She relented and lay back down, her eyes squinted before she blinked and opened them wider, as if trying to shake off the effects of the Zat blast and the head injury she had sustained.

“Sir…where’s Daniel?” she asked, hushed, eyes narrowing as she took in the otherwise empty room, possessions littering the floor as if the people that had lived here had attempted to grab some of them before running, leaving the rest scattered and broken on the floor. Maybe a Jaffa patrol had been through this building before and taken prisoners.

She tried to look out past him through the dim room, the only illumination the light from outside as the fires sparked and coughed smoke into the air, making it acrid and hazy beyond the walls of this building.

“Taken.” He informed succinctly, his tone grim as he thought back to Daniel’s stupid move and his inability to help his friend because that would have meant leaving Carter unconscious and alone. In the scheme of things, Daniel had really left _them_ behind in this situation, but if he had left Carter…he would have regretted it. Daniel had chosen his actions. Who was he to combat the man’s choices? Stupid or not. He would kick his rash ass later.

“ _What_?! How?” She asked, growing agitated, her features concerned as well as pained now.

“Thought he would try to play hero, what else?” He said gruffly, moving from her side to the window to glimpse out at the street to try to get a read on the situation and when they should move out.

“It was just after you were zatted…” he begun…

*******************************

_“We can’t just do nothing Jack.” Daniel said, as they watched, hidden from view, as the Jaffa bullied and prodded a young mother who was gripping tightly to a young child who was sobbing with fear. Jack watched the duo with grave acceptance. They had to remain hidden. They couldn’t reveal themselves. They had to work out a way to save the whole planet not just this young woman who looked like a child herself and the curly haired little girl in her arms._

_“It would be suicide to help her.” Jack responded, feigning calm when all he wanted to do was run out with his weapon drawn. If they tipped their hand, and revealed themselves, everything would be lost. They had a chance if they could help the rebel factions. They had the Intel about what to expect._

_“Then avenge me.” Daniel said darkly, before he stood from his spot across the square._

_“Daniel!” He said it as a curse into the radio, but the Archaeologist flicked the radio off and all Jack heard as response was static. He swore under his breath as Daniel ran at the Jaffa who were prodding the young woman along the path towards the Al’Kesh._

_“Crap.” He muttered as he moved to stand to help the stupid man he called friend. Daniel had never been good at following orders. The only thing about him that hadn’t changed or evolved like the rest of him._

_Jack turned his head, looking down at Carter who was still out cold at his feet, torn with indecision, spinning back to find Daniel engaging the three Jaffa, the first receiving a punishing blow and crumpling as Daniel turned to fight the other two. The scuffle was over within moments, the butt of a staff weapon slamming into Daniel’s jaw. Jack crouched back down, his hand gripping the side of Carter’s vest, wishing he had another option besides this inaction. But he didn’t._

_He couldn’t risk Carter. Couldn’t give away their position. There were bigger things at work here, and staying alive and_ free _was important now._

_And he would just get caught too if he jumped out now. He watched helplessly, his jaw clenched tightly as Daniel was carried onto the Al’Kesh, followed by the Jaffa soldier who had gotten knocked on his ass, leading the mother and child, the anger and firmly implanted humiliation clear on the Jaffa’s face and in the harsh way he pressed the woman to move._

_Jack sank back, cursing under his breath as he realised that this situation had just gotten so much worse._

_Cut off from the ‘gate, friendless and with an injured Carter._

_He knew that he would probably kill Daniel next time he saw him, thinking mildly that he should never have expected anything less from the man. He had always been rash._

_He stayed completely still as the ship took off, leaving them once more alone in the darkened street, flames simmering in burnt out buildings across the road and a light flickering on the pavement as it tried to remain lit._

_They were in trouble._

*******************************

“Rest. We’ll leave as soon as the Jaffa patrols ease off this area.” He said, making there stagnation here more about the patrols and not about her injury.

She looked ready to argue, but instead, she nodded wearily and slumped back down.

“Where are we going to go?” She asked, her voice strained, but she was looking to him for a plan. A plan he didn’t have.

“Out of the city. Whoever this Goa’uld is will focus on the power grids and communications. Durgan mentioned that the rebels are operating out of some settlement outside the restrictions of the city.”

“The rebels? You want to talk to them? Why?” She asked, and he knew she asked because they had been the ones to dislike their presence on the planet in the first place. Going to them for help now could be suicide given the hostile attacks on the council buildings before _these_ attacks had begun.

“I don’t know Carter.” He said irritably. “Get manpower. _Allies_.”

“Sir, they were against our presence here. They won’t listen to us…” She argued, and he turned to look at her, his expression strained as he took in her pale features, ashen. That was the only thing that he would excuse her sharp tone for. Potential concussion.

“Carter…just relax, would you?! Let me worry about the semantics.” He said in a steely voice. She gave in to his command, turning to lay with her face towards where he crouched by the window, that one haunted look on her features seared into his mind.

She was right.

The rebels wouldn’t listen to them. They were the outsiders whom they most likely blamed this attack on. But they had no choice, whoever the leader was; they had to make him listen, because if they didn’t, this planet was most assuredly damned.


	4. Boy on the Landing

_Three Months Later_

They didn’t make it far through the burnt out neighbourhood, breaking through a boarded up window of one of the lesser damaged houses, stepping into a dusty living room that seemed to have been deserted just around dinner time. Moulded food scraps sat on the table on once pristine china plates, the serving dishes matching and all neatly set, like some family would come in laughing and smiling at any moment to share the forgotten meal.

Jack adjusted the backpack on his shoulder, glancing at Carter as she climbed in the window after him, both of them surveying the remains of what was once a home, her sideways glance meeting his for a mere moment before she glanced away.

“Upstairs would be the best vantage point.” She said on a hushed tone, and he nodded gravely, tucking his weapon against his side, fingers locked on the trigger in case they were ambushed. Many of the homes they had happened upon had been crowded with people with too little food to go around as they attempted to stay hidden from Jaffa patrols, and they were fierce, not wanting to add another mouth to feed.

They had been alone for days, attempting to blend in with the locals, despite the fact that they were _different_. It seemed to be common knowledge that they were the ones who didn’t come from here. Weren’t _local_.

Among these survivors, they were the outsiders, and Jack didn’t trust any of them enough to close his eyes around them.

He had no doubt for a day’s worth of rations, they would slit his throat or drag him out and tie him somewhere for the Jaffa to find, as if his sacrifice would be enough to appease the Goa’uld now lording it over these people like a sorry excuse for a malevolent king. They weren’t even sure which Goa’uld had decided to invade this planet, keeping their heads down. Under the radar meant a lack of Intel.

He kept them moving. This mission had been supposed to be a peaceful one after all, and he’d only come to lend a hand in the negotiations. So much for uneventful and diplomatically boring.

Now he wished he’d let Woolsey handle it.

Although, leaving the rest of SG-1 with Woolsey after everything that had happened would have been a regret as well. He would have regretted not being here with Carter.

He preceded her up the stairs, the whole place seeming like some empty crypt or something. It had been abandoned for months, and he hated to think about the time that had passed since they had been stranded here in the aftermath of this Apocalypse.

He had to keep reminding himself that it wasn’t Earth.

He moved slowly, holding his gun with flexing fingers, waiting with a keen eye for someone to jump out at them and attack.

It had happened before. They weren’t just wary of Jaffa these days.

Sam followed his steps, her gun aimed upwards as he pressed his back to the wall as he moved up the stairs, his weapon ready to fire if need be. _Flexing of his finger.  A report. A dead person dropping like a heavy weight on the landing._

_It had happened before._

“Jack…” She whispered from behind him. He had told her to start calling him Jack.

The people would know something was up if she called him ‘Sir’ all the time. It just branded them more completely as outsiders.

He turned slightly, seeing her chin rising to just above them. A hand was dangling there on the next level, just over the edge. Dried blood on the fingers.

He cautiously moved up the rest of the stairs, doing a thorough sweep of the hallway beyond, seeing that two of the doors lay ajar, one completely closed, staff blasts having torn through the wood, leaving seared blackened marks and gaping holes in the white-painted panel.

He motioned to the first door and Sam moved on past him to push it open with the side of her hand as he scanned the inside with military precision.

 _Empty_.

They moved to the second ajar door, finding its contents the same.

He turned back to the dead body that lay on the floor, his heart dropping as he realised how young the face was, his mind reverting to another place. Another time.

 _Charlie_. _Blood soaked his clothing as he carried his son, his heart pounding with panic as Sara dogged his steps, trying to touch her boy, begging Jack to save him, to bring him back from the confronting and all too real precipice of death._

“Oh God…he’s just a boy…” Sam whispered, not moving, her eyes glued to the still form of the boy, his cheek bloodied, looking so _small_ slumped on the floor as he was.

As if he had tried to _run_.

Jack’s hatred increased.

He clenched his jaw and moved swiftly towards the seared main bedroom door, peering in carefully.

There was nothing.

He forced the door open, the hinges snapping from the previous staff blasts, the door shoved inwards.

He stepped inside, finding bits and pieces of the door on the floor, in shards, crunching under his boot.

He stared at the empty space, seeing that people had been living in here, but had fled when they had been able to. The family that had lost their son.

“They wouldn’t have just left him…” Sam said decidedly, her jaw tightening, voice catching, eyes haunted as she spoke about the boy on the landing. Not much older than what Charlie had been.

“They were taken.” Jack stated, seeing the signs of struggle. The blood that was dripped on the floor, moving on outwards from the bedroom.

Jack sighed and rested his head against the doorjamb, fatigue warring at him, but he ignored it, moving back out past Sam where she stood. He handed her his weapon jerkily before he crouched down and lifted the boy into his arms, carrying him wordlessly down the stairs, just like he had done so long ago for Charlie, the dead weight barely registering given the size of the body cradled in his arms. She followed, and he moved out into the backyard, the twilight hiding them as he moved out into the cold.

Jack placed the boy down carefully, wondering if his parents knew he was dead, or if they were hoping he still lived.

Nothing would be able to take away from their pain. He knew. Had thought that maybe only death itself would numb it. Nothing else.

No one wanted to outlive their child.

He took his weapon once more and moved towards the shed that sat at the very bottom of the yard. God, if he didn’t know better, he would believe this was Earth. That thought kept spearing his mind.

They scouted the area, finding it devoid and cold. Silent.

He found a shovel.

Carter said nothing as she found a second shovel and they began to dig the boy a grave. It was only right.

He deserved more, this nameless boy who lay alone on a landing, but they couldn’t give him more.

They dug and they remained silent, working in synchronisation.

He laid the boy to rest saying a small prayer. Save his soul because his soul was worth saving.

After they filled in the grave, they moved back inside, both of them dirtied and tired, worn to the bone from this whole damned situation, cut off from their own world that seemed just a little more pristine since the months here, watching this civilisation slowly dwindle away to the hard assed civilians who fought with claws and teeth to remain free from this oppression that SG-1 had supposedly brought down upon them.

Because they had been here when the attack started.

There was always a need for someone to blame.

This planet was supposed to be protected. He guessed the Asgard bluff had finally been tested and destroyed. Either that or the Goa’uld responsible had just gotten brave.


	5. Frayed edges

“The second bedroom.” He said as they mounted the stairs once more, knowing that the second bedroom looked out onto the deserted street. One of them would keep watch.

She didn’t respond, just following him dutifully.

“Stay here…I’m going to go check out the pantry.” He said softly, keeping his voice hushed.

She crossed into the bathroom as he watched, leaving the door ajar. There were never doors between them now. It was too dangerous to have no easy escape.

He walked down the stairs and into the kitchen, finding it clean and empty, the pantry still stocked like the family would come home any minute. He gathered some of the food, the canned variety that had strange alien text on them. The language here.

Neither he nor Carter knew the written language, and without Daniel, they were kind of just deciding on a pick-n-mix of possibilities of what the cans would hold. But it was food.

He climbed the stairs once more, seeing Carter step from the bathroom, wiping her face and the top of her chest with a wet cloth, her jacket in her hand as she attempted to clean up.

“You okay?” he asked, assessing her tired features. Her hair was washed, slicked back from her face where she had cleaned it as best she could.

“Would kill for a proper shower.” She said, looking back towards the bathroom with a quiet kind of longing, as if she knew they couldn’t. It was too dangerous.

“I’ll keep watch.” He said softly, firmly, and she lifted her eyes to his, assessing, seeing that he was willing to risk it to make things okay for her. She needed this. So he would give it to her.

“What about you?” She asked, hesitating –wanting to be on equal footing with him. The chain of command had been a little off for a while now, and Jack couldn’t even begin to decipher when or where the shift had occurred, but it had. They had gone too long without the reminders. Faced too many dark things since they had come here to be able to keep things utterly professional despite their underlying and volatile feelings. They had depended on their rules for so long, that in this situation, where the lines they’d drawn had been smudged almost beyond recognition, he felt off balance. With the glances he sometimes caught from her, laced with slight bewilderment and a quiet, almost disjointed kind of _longing_ , he could safely assume she was wondering the same dangerous things as he was.

“Saying I smell, Carter?” He asked wryly.

“No offense.” She responded with a ghost of a smile on her lips. He barely even registered the lack of the ‘Sir’ she usually tacked onto her sentences when addressing him _before_.

This experience had changed them. He doubted he would see a true Carter smile for a while. At least not until they got home and could forget this whole unfortunate chain of events. If that was even remotely possible. He’d never forget this particular shade of grey that acted as a heavy –albeit invisible- veil over their reality.

They wouldn’t be leaving this place without a ship. The Gate was now heavily guarded by the Goa’uld forces that had overcome the city. They had nearly gotten themselves killed gaining that Intel.

“I think we have a moment. Might as well take advantage of it.” He said, tilting his chin towards the bathroom. She nodded shortly and turned, moving back within the room. She didn’t close the door. He waited, on edge as she showered, keeping it short.

She stepped out a few minutes later, clutching one of the towels that sat unused in the bathroom, pulling the tank top down on her abdomen as she emerged, seeming to look like her usual self if a little worn around the edges.

Jack pushed off the wall and handed her his weapon, meeting her gaze for a moment, seeing the exhaustion in her expression.

“We’re gonna go home Carter. You know that right?”

“Of course.” She replied, giving him the line he wanted. He knew she was just following a script. She wasn’t convinced. He could tell. After these three months of constant peril, the edges of their safety scrutinised by insidious eyes searching for them at every corner, almost getting killed at least a dozen separate times –by both Jaffa attacks and the locals who had faded into darkness- there wasn’t much cause to believe they would just miraculously step out on the other side of this untainted. Handed an easy and uncomplicated solution. A way home without bloodshed and violence seeped into their pores and cutting at their insides like scar tissue.

He didn’t call her on it, knowing they probably both needed a little bit of assurance to promise each other. A little of the decorum of before, even if they couldn’t completely buy into the promise of returning to Earth.

He undressed swiftly, stepping under lukewarm spray in the small stall, washing away the dirt and grit from his face and hair and the rest of his body, sagging from exhaustion.

It had been days since their last still moment, always on the go, hiding from patrols, trying to find a place to feel safe despite the fact that there was no safe places anymore. Not unless you went somewhere the Jaffa had already been. Like here. A place they were faced with more death and destruction at the hands of whatever sanctimonious Goa’uld had decided this planet was ripe for the taking. Ripe for _enslavement_.

He stepped from the shower, rubbing himself as dry as he could before he redressed in clothing he would rather throw into the bin and burn. He felt the heaviness sink against his skin, making him feel almost just as dirty as he had before. He stepped out of the bathroom.

“They might have clothing…” She said, motioning to the destroyed room down the hall.

He nodded as he took his gun from her. Neither of them ever let their weapons go. Even for a second.

She came back, meeting him in the second bedroom where he’d begun to move things around to acquire some kind of safe haven, to keep a vigil out the window. A moment of safety.

“Any luck?” The last place they had been, she’d only found a closet full of feminine skirts and dresses. She had instead taken a pair of the male pants which were too big for her, and she still wore them, dirtied and ripped in places, a belt cinching them at her waist.

She grinned and held up a pile of clothes. “Yes.”

She passed him some clothing and they both changed, modesty having been taken from them at the beginning of this ordeal.

He glanced up, catching sight of pale legs as she stepped into the better fitting pants. The worst thing about this world according to Carter was the fact that the women’s clothing was all impractical for this kind of thing.

War never was practical.

She had taken to wearing men’s pants, these ones seemed to fit her better than the last.

She caught his eyes, and looked away, turned slightly as she stripped her shirt over her head, replacing it with her own spare tank top –one she’d washed a few times.

“Sorry.” He mumbled, thinking he should just ease off with the perversion.

She deserved better from him.

She shot him a small look, and he took it as forgiveness, removing his own clothing and pulling the clean shirt over his head, his eyes lifting to catch her staring at him in turn. He stifled a smile as he pulled a sweat shirt over his head, replacing the leather like jacket he’d taken from the main military facility on their last little jaunt into long abandoned building to find extra weaponry and supplies left behind by the initial raids. It was a military jacket with the insignia for this planets defence. It felt kind of ironic that they were essentially the _only_ defence now, aside from the rebels that always seemed just one or two steps ahead of them.

*******************************

He kept watch. He was always first to keep watch, glancing surreptitiously towards the bed where she lay curled on her side, looking almost peaceful despite the fact that she tended to wake suddenly every few minutes, her eyes swinging to where he sat by the window before she relaxed enough to sleep again.

He knew he probably did the same. Keeping one eye open, not just to ensure they were safe, but to ensure that she was still there with him and hadn’t faded while his eyes were closed.

Funny that the only thing he could really recall before everything had once again spiralled into danger and mayhem was the almost open, _free_ way that Sam had been looking at him.

Quick glances with a knowing light in her eyes that spoke of the underlying _something_ that had been ignored for far too long between them.

The way her smile would kick straight to his gut, sending it swooping downwards into the vicinity of his toes, a rush that felt even more exhilarating than flying an F-302.

Her eyes –the blue seeming so vibrant in those moments before the attack had begun- pinning him. It seemed to him now that her eyes were _brighter_ in his memory. Brighter than he had seen in a while.

He wasn’t sure if it was just wishful thinking on his part, or if it was real –but, now, in the dark wake of the attack, wondering if they would ever get back to Earth- he liked to believe that he hadn’t imagined the change between them. The shift from merely CO and Subordinate –their modus operandi for more years than he cared to count- to something that transcended the supposed simplicity of that professional relationship.

Being in her vicinity when it was only the two of them had put a strain on them, dulling that knowledge that something was definitely transpiring beneath the surface. Neither of them had ever been big talkers, even though she was adept at the technobabble.

He wasn’t talking about necessity. He was talking about the personal level of conversation that they had never tried to change –because they had never needed to. Not professionally anyway, and anything that existed beyond that…well, that would have been just asking for trouble. Personally, they were both as bad as each other when it came to expressing anything in words.

So they didn’t.

He’d always considered words kind of superfluous when it came to them, because, he had known from early on in their relationship that they had formed some kind of…unspoken knowing.

The creation of a language he was sure that Daniel wouldn’t even be able to translate.

They spoke all the time.

He turned back to the window at a sound out in the darkness, eyes narrowed as he caught sight of a group of people, sneaking into the darkness. It wasn’t a large group. Maybe a family switching houses, trying to find a place warm and dry –forced out of hiding perhaps by hunger, moving in the cover of darkness, relying on that to cloak them.

Jack sucked in a breath as he realised it wasn’t working. He saw and heard the cargo ship that swung overhead, landing in the centre of the street. The patrols always swept the area at night, knowing that people were more likely to try to find other shelter under cover of darkness. Jack had seen them round people up like herded cattle, seeing without being able to do anything besides get captured himself.

 Jack ducked back into the darkness as he heard the first scream from the small group; fear entrenched in their voices as the man pushed one of the others, telling her to run.

It was too late.

The Jaffa had them surrounded, coming out of the woodwork, obviously having followed the ship into this area. The people were forced onto their knees, like they were tormenting them with the idea of a quick death in the street. A psychological harassment of sorts.

A short-circuiting streetlight was the only thing that illuminated the scene enough for Jack to witness the events unfolding.

Sam came to hunker down at his side, wide awake now, seeing an attack that they had witnessed too many times before.

They sat hunched side by side at the window, silently, gravely watching the exchange. The lead Jaffa backhanded the female who fell down unconscious, while the male launched himself at the alien despite the fact that he was outnumbered.

Three staff weapons activated and aimed on the man who strained, holding his daughter to his side to protect her, the only reason he didn’t condemn himself to death by attacking the soldiers again.

The leader stepped forward, motioning to the others to hold the male back as he took the girl’s chin in harsh fingers, angling her face up to look at her closer. Looking for something in particular in her features. _A potential host_.

He nodded and they ushered the man and his child to their feet, motioning towards the Al’Kesh before he glanced around, as if hoping there would be more wandering souls to capture.

Jack wasn’t even sure how the small family had lasted this long alone out here. The more survival-minded of the refugees would have never thought darkness was a true barrier.

 _Do what the enemy won’t expect_.

“We can’t do _nothing_ …” Sam said on a hushed whisper, angry at the treatment of the innocent civilians, a light in her eyes that said she would give anything to do a ‘Daniel’ and attempt a rescue of the unfortunate people now being pushed into the cargo ship.

“And we can’t do _something_ either.” He said calmly, even though on some level he wished he could give into the urge he had to play hero. Their safety – _her_ safety- depended on stealth and intelligence, and running out to play hero would only get them killed or captured, and then, they would probably never be able to help these people or see Earth again.

It was already too late for this population. They were essentially overrun and there was no coming back from that. They would never forget this darkness, even if they were eventually freed.

He wasn’t arrogant enough to think the actions of he or Carter would save the planet, but he was damn well going to try.

Because that was just what they did.

It wasn’t going to be easy to form any kind of offensive without help, however.

They’d been trying to seek out people –the rebels- who seemed to be willing to risk themselves for the greater good of salvaging what was left of this once fair planet. The few offensives they’d seen barely broke through the ranks of the enemy before they slunk back into the shadows, so well hidden they were almost non-existent.

Which made finding them a bitch.

To think it had merely been a matter of weeks since the place had exuded peace and happiness. The first time he had stepped foot onto the planet in a tour by the council, he had been able to take in the calm here. The way the people were so easy and untainted by evil.

That had all changed in one brutal afternoon. Explosions rocking the council buildings, panic ensuing as people screamed. Blood and destruction as the first Jaffa had come to wreak their havoc on the innocent people who called this city home.

“When exactly _are_ we going to do something?” Sam asked, breaking him from his thoughts, starting a path of an argument that they had both strained to keep just below the surface these last months. At first, she had given him her dutiful ‘Yes Sir’ response, a ticking in her jaw that told him she barely agreed that they should just _wait_ to plan a revolt.

It wasn’t something he had ever figured he would say, but he had known that the lives lost or taken meant little when it came to the bigger picture.

First they needed supplies. Man power. And it wasn’t going to be coming from the SGC, especially seeing as some idiot locals had stolen their radios in spite within the first 2 weeks, holding them down and stealing all they could of their supplies. The only reason Jack still had his P-90 was because they hadn’t been able to unclip it from his vest quickly enough.

They had to gain trust, find the rebellious leader who had been picketing the council, because him and his merry band of miscreants -the only real opposition on this planet- were their best chance to win the planet _back_.

Funny that the council had looked down their noses at the rebellious leader as if he was scum, when he was probably now their only hope. If he hadn’t been captured already.

They had gone underground when the attacks had started. They’d been searching for signs ever since.

After a three week, her edges had started to fray. He blamed exhaustion. The constant running. The fear for Daniel and, of course, the other members of SG-1. She hadn’t even tried to disguise her distaste for waiting until the optimum time after that, her capitulation to his order and command decisions coming later, _slower_  than before, making it harder for him to actually hold his position as the superior in this situation.

He was starting to see the rebellious edges of her personality that she kept at bay, the rebellious side of her that enjoyed her motorbike at speeds exceeding what was generally classed as safe, and her skills that said she would make one hell of a vagabond if pushed. Lock-picking. Bomb making. Blowing up suns with a devilish, albeit cautiously veiled expression on her beautiful face.

“Carter…” he warned calmly, the edge of his voice belying that calm. He was not having this conversation with her again.

She bowed her head slightly, lifting her eyes to his once more to reveal a raw, pained side of her that he saw more often than not these days. A haunted knowing.

“It’s not supposed to be this way.” She said, getting up from beside him and settling back on the bed, the cargo ship long gone along with the innocent civilians, the only thing disrupting the stifling tension from the presence of those soldiers the still flickering light that seemed unable to just quit working like the rest of the lights that lined the street.


	6. Lightning

Hours later, in the cold light of pre-dawn, hidden and quiet in the stillness, he turned his head to look over at her, before turning back to the dimly lit window, watching for movement out in the sticks, listening for anything that would hint at another patrol.

It had been too quiet since the small family had been taken –both inside the house and out.

Despite the lack of activity or danger, they still didn’t talk freely or loudly, and he felt as if he hadn’t _really_ spoken since this whole thing had begun.

They were both despondent, struggling to find their place, searching for how the pieces fit together in this unpredictably messed up puzzle they’d stumbled into.

“I was supposed to retire.” He said, his voice hushed, the first words he had spoken in hours. Before, the silence had been almost comforting, both of them lost in their own thoughts, but now, the silence seemed to be wrought with tension.

She didn’t say anything, but he could almost hear her mind working to wrap around his words, probably jolting her from her own thought processes concerning this situation.

“This was supposed to be my last real mission.” He continued, forcing himself to continue despite her reticence. He had no idea what made him say it – maybe it was the hopelessness he felt and he just _needed_ her to know. Before they ended up casualties to this invaded world so far from their own. Before the desolation here sank down to their very souls –if it hadn’t done so already.

“Going out with a bang huh?” she asked, and he could hear the note of irony in her voice, the bitterness in her voice almost palpable. Like she suspected that this was probably just an eleventh hour admittance of something that was probably years late in coming. He had to wonder how she would have reacted had they been back on Earth. Maybe she would have argued with him about it –or maybe she would have said nothing, giving him that strained smile that said she _wanted_ to chew him out but was too respectful of her superior to do so.

 _No point speculating_.

Whatever the case, in this scenario, she wasn’t respectful or argumentative. She was just…different. _Changed_.

That had not been what he had expected her to say, but then again, he hadn’t really figured out what he _had_ actually expected from her. His mind had been only a blank when he considered her reaction to his little revelation. He hadn’t really allowed himself to think too deeply about her response.

“Is there any other way?” he asked, sticking to the lines of the conversation.

“Not for us.” She said softly, settling down further on the mattress they’d abducted off one of the beds, wrapping her arms further around herself.

He figured that was the end of the conversation, and he had to suppress the beat of relief he felt that they hadn’t dwelt on the specifics. What did the semantics about his retirement matter now? In _this_ situation?

Maybe he had just wanted to see her reaction. Wanted to test the waters to see exactly how far she had gone and how much had changed for her in the time they had been trapped here. How much had changed for _them_.

They sat quietly, trying to rest despite the coldness in the air that felt almost ominous. It wasn’t the temperature that had a cold streak flash down his spine. It was the very atmosphere, what they knew had happened beyond these walls –a manifested sensation due to their own inner edginess.

This world falling to pieces around them as they watched like it was some sick slide show viewed from a window.

Their little apocalypse.

It shouldn’t feel so personal…but it did.

That little boy had somehow made this more personal, and he doubted that even when they got home (not ‘if’) he would be able to erase that slackened face from his mind, forever entrenched there, placed carefully amongst the other things that he supressed.

Another thing he could pretend didn’t affect him.

“Why?” she asked, her words jolting in the silence, drawing him from his thoughts as his own sons face flashed across his mind unbidden. He took a moment to figure out what she was talking about.

 _Retirement_.

Right.

Not so over after all.

“Why what?” he asked, playing the game of ambiguity.

“Why did you come on this mission?” He raised a brow, once more her question taking him off guard. He had thought she would ask why he had retired.

“One more jaunt as a General?” A lie.

She didn’t call him on it, although, he heard the slight sigh she expelled, as if she was as tired of the pretences as he was. He had no idea why he kept doing it. Maybe habit. Maybe a need to salvage the order in their now chaotic existence, starving like rats in hiding underneath the cosmetics the Goa’uld had used to paste over the desolation; blood painted over the streets, congealing in the cracks of this once free civilisation.

“So, did you expect to be up at your cabin with not a care in the world by now?” She asked, changing tracks, and he relaxed into the cordial conversational topic.

He glanced at his watch.

“Things never go how you plan.” He replied, seeing a burst of light from the direction of the city in the distance. Another rebel attack they’d missed perhaps?

“I’m technically still employed by the Air Force. The President didn’t want to let me go quite yet. Apparently I’m too _valuable_.” He said, explaining without prompting from her. He couldn’t stand the silence for some reason right now. The complete stillness. Gave him too much opportunity to think.

“You are.” She said, and he turned, catching her eye before she turned away awkwardly. “I mean…to the _Air Force_. You’re the star expert on everything pertaining to off-world travel.”

“So are about a hundred others.” He replied, the self-deprecation clear in his voice. Even to his own ears.

“You started it all.” She argued calmly, only seeming to be half in the conversation. In this moment, her eyes were riveted to the window –and the city beyond- that light making her eyes shine beautiful despite its destructive origins.

“And that makes me a bastard.” He responded with a slight wry smile.

She didn’t stay after his revelation, mumbling something about the bathroom before she retreated, leaving him in the uncompromising silence berating himself for saying too much. He should have kept it to himself. _Retirement_. It had always held such significance between them. At least in his mind.

Maybe instead of just idle conversation, she had taken it to mean so much more, all of which he hadn’t meant. Too much pressure in an already tenuous situation.

_Should have kept your damn mouth shut, O’Neill._

When he hear the sudden crash from somewhere in the house, he scrambled to his feet, his heart pounding as he realised that while he had been ranting at himself for his pure idiocy when it came to Carter, she had been in danger.

Jack moved swiftly down the stairs, twisting himself around the corner with his gun at the ready, but what he saw made the aim of his gun flag.

Carter wasn’t the one in trouble. The Jaffa that had foolishly thought to attack her were.

He had always been well aware of her fighting prowess, but before, her moves had been structured. Efficient. Only inflicting as much pain as was necessary to disable a threat.

But now…

Her movements were driven by volatile hostility.

He watched her deliver a staggering punch to Jaffa number one before elbowing the second in the face with brutal accuracy, as if she had planned beforehand where the blow would land.

Her actions weren’t careful or restrained, and he realised that what he was watching was nothing less than her frustrations over the last few months manifesting in this moment, snapping free of the tight strictures of her control.

When he saw her in action, he always thought she was a little like lightening. Dangerous but beautiful. Sparking something inside him, engaging his senses, chasing away the shadows of his dark edges with her sudden and abrupt flash of light, and he felt that it wouldn’t take much to surrender to her. To that energy that left him in awe, staring out into the darkness and hoping to see that flare again.

 _Soon_.

And it felt damned good, because although he found himself back in the darkness seconds later after he realised that things between them may never progress, that flash of pure energy and light somehow tided him over. Somehow it was _enough_.

And he would always be her thunder, following her silence with a burst of sound. He liked that feeling. That no matter the circumstance, he would always be on her six, watching out for her, following her…even if he couldn’t be right next to her. The realisation that she would always be there no matter how many things came between them. And he knew, without a doubt, despite everything, that he would never lose that.

Jack took action when the first Jaffa lurched to his feet quicker than she’d expected, and he shot the man, sending him reeling backwards, twisting to the floor in a dead heap. They both stood there silently for a moment before she stepped over the bleeding Jaffa she’s knocked unconscious, her eyes lifting to his where he stood stiffly in the doorway.

“Where there are some…” she trailed off, raising a brow. More would come. They had to leave.

So much for a safe place in this mess.

He gave a short nod and turned away, gripping his gun a little tighter, wondering –if ever- he would see careful, structured Carter again.


	7. Dregs

As soon as they stepped over the threshold, Jack realised that the house was not abandoned completely like the others they had been at in the last three months. He felt a coldness sluice down his spine, thinking mildly to himself that he had to keep his eyes open here, because…

Before his mind could fill in the blanks of the sentence, figures stepped from the darkness, emerging from around corners and his P-90 rose in an age-old reaction, eyes narrowing with an unspoken warning at the rough men that were edging to surround them, more animalistic than human.

“We don’t want any trouble.” Carter said slowly, to be understood, her own weapon, handgun, aimed on the man closest to her both hands braced around it steadily.

They were too silent for Jack’s liking. Too _unpredictable_. And that fact was proven in the next instant.

They attacked en masse, Jack turning too late as someone slammed into him from behind, having come in the door after them. His gun discharged as he went slamming into the wall, the weapon yanked from his grip as he was subdued. He heard Carter’s gun go off before she was also slammed into the closest wall.

Jack struggled, feeling his anger ratchet up at the treatment their attackers were giving them, like they had every right to ambush innocent people. Since _when_ were the humans of this world so volatile?

 _Since some Goa’uld threatened to kill them and wiped out a good portion of their planet, enslaving their people_.

He turned, watching as the guy who had Carter slammed to the wall squeezed tight fingers around the hand she had clutched to her 9 mm, her stunted cry of pain as he twisted her wrist backwards making Jack struggle further against the hold the two men behind him had.

“Hey! _We’re not the enemy!_ ” He snapped angrily, throwing his elbow backwards into someone’s ribs, his blow barely registering due to the fact that he had no real weight behind him, his attempt at freeing himself ending in failure.

“Shut up.” The guy behind him said, slamming him further into the wall. His breath huffed out of his lungs, making him see spots as his arm was twisted up behind his back, his weapon pressed painfully into his chest seeing as he had it clipped as usual to the vest he wore under his jacket, their attempt at disarming him hindered because of this fact. Despite this, these men didn’t seem concerned. Not even slightly. And that worried him most of all. This attack wasn’t about gaining more weaponry or other supplies. It was about something much more horrifying.

Carter’s 9 mm dropped to the floor, and the guy behind her smirked, his other hand slipping up her side as he used the heaviness of his body to press her firmly to the wall, keeping her under control.

“What have you got for me woman?” The guy asked smoothly, and it became shocking clear to Jack that this was not going to end well for some of them.

There were no women here. They were _all_ men. And he had a cold feeling seep under his very skin at the fact that he was about to be forced to watch these animals take Carter like some back-alley whore desperate for a buck.

“ _Get your hands off her_.” He said in a low voice, none of them realising how volatile his reaction to this was about to be. He was _not_ going to watch this. And he was not going to let these men put their hands on her seeing as she was…

He didn’t let himself finish the archaic thought. Carter was no one’s to claim. Not even _his_.

“Carter…” He muttered darkly, placing everything in that one word, telling her that he expected her to fight back with everything she had, to not let them do this. To keep fighting them no matter what.

“ _Carter_ is it?” The guy asked close to her ear. Her expression was one of revulsion as she turned her gaze away, her lip curling at the way he so daringly roamed unwelcome fingers up under her shirt, like he had every right to touch her any way he pleased just because he had _caught_ her like prey.

Without warning, the guy spun her around, pressing back into her to stop her from striking him, his fist clenching in her hair and yanking her head back into the wall, his other hand slipping to the zip on her jacket, dragging it downwards to reveal the swell of cleavage that could be seen over the edge of her tank top, his appreciative glance enraging Jack further. He felt the tension knot in him as he figured on the best way to free himself, kill these men, and save Carter.

“Play nice and I won’t hurt you… _much_.” The guy said, assessing her face with brutal intention, his sneer as he stared at her making Jack clench his teeth. The thug behind him yanked his arm further up his back until he felt the pressure –his arm close to snapping.

“Let me go…and I won’t hurt you… _much_.” She responded on a dangerously low voice, and Jack realised that she was completely capable of killing these assholes herself. The guy, however, was underestimating her, his hand closing at her throat and squeezing before he dropped his head and kissed her harshly. She was tense, completely _still_ and Jack saw the moment she got the upper hand, the guy giving a _humph_ of pain before his lips left hers, an expression of agonised shock on his face.

“ _Simon_ …” One of the other men demanded and Carter just jerked her hands upwards further between them, the knife she had been obscuring now buried in the man’s stomach. Jack ignored the sharp stab of surprise he felt at the expression on her face. Something that he had hoped to never see on her face, the same face of the Captain that had once hesitated to kill a man. She knew this was necessary. She knew what was at stake. Once, she would have sought any other option than to purposely hurt someone. But there was no reluctance in her expression. No hesitation.

All hell broke loose as the guy stumbled backwards, and Carter lurched into action, the bloody knife now clutched in her hand as she lunged at one of the men who had him pressed strongly to the wall, coming to _his_ rescue like a vengeful Valkyrie.

The others had not expected the attack as their leader stumbled backwards, falling as he clutched at his wound, bleeding profusely as the colour whited from his features, one of his companions rushing to his assistance.

Carter had her weapon swooped up off the floor in seconds and Jack let off a warning shot as he regained his hold on his P-90 as the men tensed to attack them again, the bullet imbedding into the wall, kicking out some wood from the door frame.

“I _will_ shoot you.” Jack warned unflinchingly, his finger tightening as if reflexively on the trigger, itching to shoot them despite the fact they were human. “Here’s what’s gonna happen. We’re going to walk outta here and you’re not going to follow.” Jack said firmly, his P-90  aimed on them point blank, and this time he would not hesitate.

They backed off; looking wary now –glancing at Carter with furrowed brows like maybe they figured she was more trouble than they had fully anticipated.

“Let’s get the hell out of here.” Jack muttered. Carter said nothing, gripping her 9 mm in a steady hand while they backed out the door.

To think, these people had been more than this merely three months ago. Now, they operated on the fringe of life, feral almost, hiding from patrols. The dark edge of this civilisation crouched in the shadows.

Sometimes he wondered how worthy these people were of rescue from this oppression.

*******************************

 

Jack paused in the doorway of the bathroom after he had secured the rest of the house, ensuring they had a quick escape if they were attacked again. He wouldn’t be putting her in danger like that again. He shouldn’t have so foolishly walked them both into danger like that.

The thought of what could have happened…

“You okay?” he asked, interrupting his own thoughts by breaking the silence vibrating between them since the attack, not wanting to dwell on what he would have done if they hadn’t been able to escape. It was pointless now.

She didn’t even glance up at him from where she stood, attempting to wrap her injured wrist one-handed, a frown on her face as she focused a little too hard on what she was doing.

“I’m fine.” She replied.

Jack hesitated, before he pushed off the door frame to cross the small space, stilling her hand and taking the makeshift bandage from her. He didn’t say anything, focusing on her hand, but he could feel her eyes on him, her gaze burning into him, like she was trying to figure out what to make of his actions. For touching her so freely like he would have never done before without at least a modicum of awkwardness.

He was standing a little too close to her, he knew that, but after the night they’d had, trying to remain hidden from not only the Jaffa patrols but the threat that the locals posed, he _needed_ to feel her close. Needed this moment to touch her in the guise of helping her wrap her wrist.

Neither of them spoke, she merely allowed him to gently wrap her wrist, taking his time even though it should be uncomplicated and clinical. She flinched despite his careful, gingerly made movements, and he glanced at her face, pausing.

“Sorry.” He murmured before he finished the action a little more hastily, tucking the edge of the cloth into the wrapping, removing his hands from her.

Sam watched Jack as he wrapped her wrist, unable to look at anything but his features as he focused almost fiercely on what he was doing, her gaze assessing his features, straying slowly over each aspect of his face, and repeating the sweep of her eyes, wondering what he was thinking.

When she felt a sharp pain run up her arm, she unconsciously flinched away from his touch, noticing the way he tensed with her jolt. She immediately regretted allowing herself to show that moment of pain, because it had interrupted some profound moment that had been boiling up between them in this confined space, their breathes almost mingling as he did something so rudimentary as wrap her injury.

What had happened tonight was so close to the surface, the danger that had cropped up unexpectedly from the very people that they were fighting so hard to save. It was a raw reminder that despite everything, people still had the potential to be more insidious than the Goa’uld. How far would they – _should_ they-go to save them?

She had to wonder if it was even about saving these people anymore, or if it was just about saving themselves. After tonight, she could almost convince herself that it was only about getting back to Earth. Using whatever means necessary to do what they had to not only to survive but to return home, where this whole thing could become a memory they tried not to think too deeply on. Sweep under the proverbial rug.

That maybe these moments they shared on this world that was close to folding in on itself were nothing more than imagination.

His murmur of ‘sorry’ interrupted the moment, broken by her flinch, and he stepped back, his hands braced beside him on the sink behind him, leaning back as his eyes lifted to hers. She rubbed at her newly bandaged wrist, easing the ache there that throbbed with her movement.

She had the feeling, as evidenced by the intensity of his dark gaze, that he was apologising for much more than making her flinch. Maybe for this whole situation they were in, as if somehow he held himself accountable for everything that had happened.

He stood upright after a few charged moments, averting his eyes when she refused to do like she normally would. To deflect. To take some of the intensity away from the feelings that had always threatened to overwhelm her if she looked at him too long. If she _let_ them.

She wasn’t afraid of those feelings anymore. Not after everything. Actually, those feelings were the only sturdy, reliable thing she felt anymore. And it was hard to deal with.

“We should keep moving.” He said, turning to walk out. Before she could stop herself, she was reaching out, maybe to stop him, to thank him, to feel something solid in this viscous reality they had stepped into. Her structural base was rocked, and she needed…mooring. She tightened her fingers on his jacket…


	8. Defiance

She had a hold of his jacket.

He looked down, finding her focusing her eyes somewhere at his shoulder, and he couldn’t help but glance down at her lips, her teeth worrying the bottom one. Her brow was furrowed in that way she had when she was deep in thought, and he realised that, unless he wanted to shove her away from him, she wasn’t going to let go.

Her grip on him was so tight it was turning her knuckles white as she clenched her fist, like he would actually push her away and she was determined to keep him from doing so.

“Carter…?” he murmured as a question, not sure exactly what was going on or if he should be worried. The last few months had been extremely trying on both of them, and they were both at the end of their tethers.

She lifted her eyes to his and what he saw made his breath catch in his lungs, the blue depths of her gaze revealing things that were better offstaying veiled.

Her grip on the side of his jacket only tightened, and then she was dropping her gaze to his mouth and he stood there frozen, a little stunned that she was letting him see so much of what was in her mind.

He fought to find the words to stop this spiral into the unknown, not that he knew what he could do or say in this moment. Deflect maybe, turn the focus off this strictly forbidden moment, try to put things back into perspective- but he knew, as soon as her lips met his, that there was nothing but them here.

No rules.

She was letting other things speak for her now instead of the unyielding rules they had been living by, giving into the pull of this deeply magnetic force that was pushing them together.

He resisted, however, pressing her back from him gently, not wanting her to think that he didn’t want this with every cell of his being.

“What is this?” he asked calmly, trying to avoid glancing down at her lips that had just been attached so sweetly to his, focusing instead on her eyes.

“You retired.” She said simply, meeting his gaze without any sign of discomfort or uncertainty, as if this had been a long time coming. And maybe it had been. There was no awkwardness in her gaze; instead all he saw was a surety as she kept her eyes steady on his.

Yeah, he had, but…he hadn’t thought she really was interested in _this_ anymore. If he had known, he wouldn’t have waited. He would have…

Done something.

Maybe.

He knew then that maybe he had never been in control of this. It had always been up to her, and she had just essentially made a choice.

Before he could follow through on his intention to kiss her again, and allow this to transpire like he knew he _shouldn’t_ , a scream from somewhere beyond the house unhinged the moment, and they both shot a wary glance towards the doorway, neither of them having shifted from their positions, as they were almost pressed up against each other, her fingers still curled in his jacket.

“Help!” Jack couldn’t deny that the timing for this plea was not exactly the best, seeing as things between himself and Carter were incredibly complicated and uncertain, but, he wouldn’t just do nothing anymore. Whoever was out there was begging someone – _anyone_ \- to help.

Carter was out the door before he could reengage, but he followed her anyway, darting out of the small, heated bathroom towards the front windows of the small house, both of them flanking the curtains to glance out onto the street.

It wasn’t a patrol that that was stalking the girl who’d cried for help. It was the thugs who had tried to molester Carter, their leader not with them. They were chasing the girl who couldn’t be any more than 14 across the street where she darted away from the three grown men.

Jack’s jaw clenched as he opened his mouth to say something, to form a plan to save the girl, because despite his inability to do something when it came to the patrols, _this_ situation was a contrast. These feral men would undoubtedly hurt this girl and from what they had been about to try with Carter, Jack was almost certain that she was no match for their insidious attack.

Carter seemed to take this new threat -against a _girl_ no less- personally, like she felt responsible for the fact that these men had gone on to terrorise this young girl. Like it was directly due to the fact that she hadn’t debilitated _all_ of them when she had gained the chance, and not just their wily leader.

She was lurching for the door before he could speak, his reprimand of “Carter!” going unheard as she ran headlong into the street to stop the attack and save the young damsel in distress now trying to struggle free as one of the males grabbed at her, tearing her shirt.

He ended up on the street just in time to see Carter take the first attacker off guard, knocking him on his ass, her actions heroic and vibrant for liberty’s sake.

“Pick on someone your own size!” She said fiercely, her protectiveness of this girl sending her a little nuts.

His heart was pounding as he dove into the fray, his fist connecting with one of the men’s faces, crumpling him to the ground, twisting around Carter in a bid to block the blow coming at her from behind with the makeshift baton-like weapon gripped tightly in a meaty hand.

He lifted his arm, the resounding vibration of the weapon slamming against the side of his arm almost knocking him to his knees. Jack didn’t hesitate, the throbbing pain of his new injury keeping steady time with his heart beating like a drum.

He grabbed the weapon, yanking it forward, forcing the guy to lose his balance with a yelp, and Jack shoved the weapon into the man’s chest, slamming him backwards off his feet before delivering a punishing kick to his face, knocking him out cold, realising only after wards that it was the same thug who had slammed him into the wall earlier.

He turned, the weapon in his hand now, breathing heavily, eyes narrowed with fury as he sought another attacker to debilitate. He found none. All he found was Carter, her eyes on the teenage girl who was crouched low on the ground, tears streaking her pale face, eyes wide and scared.

“It’s okay…” She said soothingly, coming down to the girl’s level. The level of the girl she had risked herself for. Just like Daniel had done before he had gotten captured.

Jack was seconds away from snapping.

He was furious, the beat of it surging inside him, forcing him to clench his fist around the weapon he now held before he reached out and shook Carter for her absolutely impulsive and idiotic move.

She could have been captured. Or hurt. Or _killed!_

His adrenaline eased, but he still said nothing despite the seething anger fizzling inside him, watching as Carter helped the girl to her feet and led her back towards the house they had been hiding inside, murmuring something about getting out of there before any Jaffa patrols came out this far and found them so vulnerable, out in the open like this.

Jack silently followed, still gripping the pilfered weapon, watching as Carter tended the girl and wrapped a blanket around her slim shaking shoulders.

Logically, Jack knew why she had done it. This girl…she deserved to be safe. Deserved stability. But they had agreed dammit, that neither of them would just run out into the middle of something without at least consulting the other about the plan…stupid or otherwise.

But, seeing Carter jumping to the rescue, seeing her _throw_ herself towards those men who had already threatened her with abuse to save the life of this girl…

It had scared him. Because losing her was _not_ an option he ever wanted to face. He suspected that he would have a harder time dealing with that loss now more so than before. They needed each other. _Depended_ on each other.

He guessed he shouldn’t have been surprised, given her mounting frustration with doing _nothing_ and watching more and more poor souls be captured, and the slow burning wick of her professional mentality slipping towards her backup defence mechanism of her dare-devil persona. _Danger junkie_.

This situation had burned them to the edge of madness and helplessness. Rashness was merely a product of being pushed as far as they had been these last few months.

He placed the weapon against the door, ignoring the throb of his arm which he knew could possibly be broken. He was still vibrating with anger, because, in fear came fury. At _her_.

“Carter.” He said gruffly, and her eyes lifted from the girl, who was watching them with uncertainty. Carter seemed to see it in his eyes, or had already known he would be inclined to punish her for her reckless behaviour. Or, maybe she had figured out his wrathful intention and thoughts from the fact he called her “Carter” again in that biting, commanding tone.

She nodded and turned back to the girl.

“Stay right here and I’ll come back okay? You’re safe now.” She assured, and Jack turned, moving into the small cluttered kitchen of their new abode, pacing with agitation while she stood completely motionless, waiting for him to vent –rant, rage…

Her lack of movement –as if waiting for his reprimand, like she had known she had acted foolishly – only managed to incite his aggravation further. He kept his back to her, body humming with tension, trying to pick out of the thousands of reprimands he had jerking in his head, urging to slip free from his mouth. Everything that leapt to the front of his mind was teetering on the edge of his emotions, however, and he couldn’t find a professional word in his head.

“I couldn’t just do nothing, Jack.” She said, both a justification and an apology… _somehow_. The use of his name another reminder that things were irreparably different now despite the fact that he had insisted on the informality. It felt more natural now to hear her say it.

He couldn’t speak. Didn’t know what he could say. He turned to her and approached, getting right into her personal space, an act that she didn’t even flinch from, her eyes focused, -clear and unfettered with regret- on his, like she was daring him to reprimand her. Like she ached to have that remembrance of who they had been before all this had torn their order apart.

“You could have been captured. _Killed_.” He gritted out fiercely and her eyes shadowed with uncertainty. This wasn’t a reprimand. This wasn’t a dressing down laced with fury. This was… _personal_ and she knew it.

“Jack…”

“ _Don’t_.” he growled, stepping back from her, his arm giving a painful twinge as she reached out to touch him, to sooth his anger and his fear about her wellbeing.

Her eyes narrowed.

“You’re hurt.” She said, and he was grateful for the injury. It would be easier to step past this conversation they _weren’t_ having with a reason. A tangible one and not just one that was about military barriers.

Everything had changed. And he knew that it would maybe never go back. They had stepped out of bounds too far. Their inner walls had come crashing down around them.

It was everything.

“It’s nothing.” He said, meeting her gaze, saying more with that one look than he could with any stunted words he spoke. That maybe they were the ones that were broken.

_‘I can’t stand the thought of you getting hurt,’_

“I can splint it if it’s broken.” She said, keeping her eyes on his.

He reached up and cupped her face suddenly, stepping up to her, their bodies brushing as he assessed her features with avid sweeping intensity, before he kissed her. Sharply, unapologetically, pulling back too quickly for any real emotion or care to be given, glinting eyes staring down into hers as if showing her something. A desperation that she not ever do what she had done to save that girl again. Because he needed her with him.

He needed _her_ to be safe.

The sound of the front door closing had them both jolted from their uncompromising staring contest, both of them darting back into the lounge room where the blanket Carter had tucked around the frightened girl lay discarded –and she was nowhere to be seen.

“Dammit!” Carter muttered.

Her eyes lit on him then, the annoyance there at the girl’s disappearance slipping away as she took him in, watching her as he was from the doorway. She stepped closer to him.

“Let me have a look at your arm.” She said, reengaging, adapting to the new situation. The situation that forced them into solitude with each other once more.

He followed her up the stairs, watching her, only stopping when they were standing in the dim bedroom where their meagre belongings sat almost left abandoned. She reached into one of the backpacks, pulling out a hard-won bandage, turning back to him. He removed his jacket, slipping it free and rolling up the sleeve of his shirt, revealing his reddened forearm. The pain had started to ease, and despite the lump that was forming there which would bruise without too much effort, he doubted now that it was actually broken.

She reached out, taking his forearm carefully and inspecting the injury in the light filtering through the boards on the window, the grey evening light waning completely to dusk now.

“I don’t think it’s broken.” He murmured and her eyes lifted to his, her fingers warm on his skin, soothing him as their eyes locked.


	9. Surrender

He wasn’t sure what made him do it, if it was just the unrelenting silence that seemed to be eating them apart or the unresolved tension snapping frantically between them (mostly ignored) that influenced him –or maybe it was just the post-adrenaline laced moment that usually followed a near-death moment like the one they had just experienced. Hell it could be a mixture of all of those things thrown together to make one undeniable concoction of boiling _need_.

All he did know was that they suddenly had a safe place in a world where there was utter chaos around every crumbling corner, and his lips had found hers in a shockingly comfortable manner, his body pressed heavily against hers as he backed her unapologetically into the wall; the moment so imperfect it almost fulfilled all his clandestine desires right then and there. He had never ever wanted perfect Carter. He much preferred this flawed, version of her, because it was _real_ and delightfully complicated.

No words had even been uttered between them, they’d just swayed together as if they had discussed this in length before this point in time and had come to this unavoidable conclusion.

Whatever the specifics, it didn’t matter, all that really mattered was that he was kissing her without pretence or hesitation; like it was the most natural thing in this world –and every other- and it felt much better than it should given their current circumstance.

They spiralled towards each other, colliding in a flurry of sparks, their clothing mostly ignored; only pushing away the pieces that were necessary for skin-on-skin contact between them.

In moments, quicker than he had thought possible, he was pressing into her, breaching her body the way he had never breached the regulations that had for years dictated their relationship, this one stilted moment in time a stark and unbelievable contradiction to all the time they had waited and resisted and adhered to the rules like good soldiers were supposed to –all those barriers busting open now as he began a steady rhythm inside her.

He couldn’t take his eyes from her face, the expression there one of longing, her eyes like twin event horizons, promising the pathway to freedom. The pathway home.

And, in this moment, he could believe that this could transport him there.

He couldn’t bring himself to slow his movements, nor could he look away from her face, the frozen moment between their locked gaze so at odds with the ever-increasing pace of his thrusts, desperation clawed at him, hinting that maybe a part of him doubted if they would ever make it home. Back to Earth where this moment -this _thing_ boiling between them was essentially forbidden. Something ricocheting between awkward half-truths and a whole lot of something said in too many moments of silence.

Why else would he let this happen? This moment of complete surrender.

He knew that he should acknowledge this as wrong, but, he couldn’t. Because it didn’t feel as wrong as it should in this broken moment between moments so far from what they were used to. So far away from everything that made them who they were. Only the elemental pieces of themselves still existed, the lines cracked, the barriers shattered so perfectly without any real pressure –like the guardrails cordoning off their emotions had never really been that impervious to begin with.

His body wouldn’t be denied, his hips rocking forward between her thighs over and over again, pressing and grinding into her on every second thrust, losing himself in the warmth of her body; a comfort when everything around them these days felt so cold. So detached.

He succumbed to his need, breaking the all-encompassing eye contact, his fingers curling in her hair, head dipping, lips pressed to her temple in a semblance of a kiss as he revelled in her scent, her skin, sinking into her deeper, casting himself into her and giving her his all.

He clenched his eyes shut, squeezing them tightly, feeling her hands coast down over his shoulders, her breaths hitting the side of his neck choppily, the warmth of that sending shivers over him as she held him to her as if she feared what the aftermath would bring.

If she let go for just a moment to face the consequences of what they were doing, the part of her –and if he was honest, _himself_ \- that was still leashed tightly by the strictures of regulations would tear like frayed threads, catapulting them into the unknown, the complete and _final_ corruption of their professional and supposedly uncomplicated relationship forever altered, crumbling under this profound decimation they were now experiencing. It was too late to go back. Too late to stop. Everything had been shifted, and every normalcy they clung to was jolted from the hinges inside.

Her fingers threaded in the hairs at the back of his head, sifting through the strands as he thrust so easily into her willing body.

This moment felt more surreal than a true facet of reality.

“Jack…” Her voice was threaded, broken, and he was lost to that whispered revelation, the way her voice trembled while wrapped around his _name_ , laced with desire. A pure and unfettered taste of emotion, echoing like a confession in his head.

Afterwards, they lay in the stillness, both of them staring as if transfixed at the ceiling, lost in their own thoughts, their fingers entwined between them as if they were both trying to hold onto something that felt as intangible as water slipping through their fingers, no matter how desperately they clutched at it.

This would never feel real enough like this. Here in this room. In this silent house haunted by the memories of those who had called it home before the attacks.

It took a while for either of them to say anything, or to shift from the edge of that uncertainty to actually discuss what had just happened between them and what came next.

When the silence did break, it wasn’t a confession of feelings that was spoken into the air around them. It wasn’t a discussion about what would happen next in this relationship that they may never work out the structure of.

It was a question of doubt. Of a certainty that for this to happen, one or both of them must be at that point of no return. A belief –even ignored or dormant- that they would never go back to Earth. He’d been stranded off-world before, but, this felt different. More.

“You don’t think we’re ever going home, do you?” It was said as a question, but really, it felt more like a statement in Jack’s mind. She broke the silence of the moment with those softly spoken words. Resigned to this unravelled hope. A realisation of the facts dictating this surrender.

“Carter…” He began, unsure how to actually answer the semi-question when he wasn’t certain what would happen himself.

And she seemed to know that.

“Jack.” She turned to face him, her fingers squeezing around his before she untangled them, her eyes burning into him even in the darkness. He glanced at her in his periphery, the moonlight spilling jaggedly through the fractures in the boarded up windows, giving her features a sharpness -a starkness- that he had never seen before this world had decimated them so effortlessly.

“This wasn’t about giving up hope.” He said lowly, meeting her gaze unflinchingly, making sure she recognised the truth of his words.

She didn’t seem to believe him, and he had to acknowledge how much had changed between them since they had been here, that humourless tipping of her lips that was a poor replica of a smile hinting at her real thoughts. He had grown accustomed to reading what that smile meant.

She was more likely to let his words slide out of some belief that they were merely hollow assurances to keep up a façade of hope.

“We _will_ go home, Sam. Believe me.” He implored. He wasn’t sure why it was so important she believed his words –even though he was struggling with believing them himself. He needed her faith now more than he ever had before.

She reached up and touched his cheek, fingers smoothing over his skin, her eyes following that tender movement, as if searching for a distraction from the thoughts rolling through her head.

“Okay.” She whispered. He didn’t respond, he just reached up and curled his fingers over hers. She met his eyes, the hollow depths searing him, and the promises died on his tongue.

It had been the accidental witnessing of the apocalypse of this world that had essentially brought them to this point, basking in an afterglow of release that had been eight years in the making, living within the confines of a place wrought with peril and danger, the chance of capture almost expected.

Finding a way to disregard all of the years they had kept this thing under the surface seemed easier on this post-apocalyptic world, so far from their own.

Because despite the circumstances, this place made them feel free.

“Get some sleep.” He said gently and she gave a slight nod, before she shifted closer, resting her cheek to the side of his shoulder. He hesitated, before he curved his arm around her.

Neither one of them slept for a long time…


	10. Rebels

A thud from down stairs had Jack jerking awake, reaching for his weapon, his eyes targeted on the door to the bedroom they’d been sleeping in, crouched low, waiting for another noise to disrupt the silence which seemed just a little too suspect in his hyper vigilant mode.

Sam was up too, her own hand on her weapon, waiting, not saying anything, knowing that speaking now would be foolish.

 _Thud_.

He met her gaze as the second noise had them both lurching to their feet. They weren’t just hearing things. There was definitely someone or something down the stairs. They had to get the hell out of here before they were found here. Then they could work out who had disrupted their calm.

Moving out into the upstairs hallway, Jack realised that it was too late for an escape. Not without loss of blood, and he wasn’t about to risk that.

“Find them.” A strong, commanding voice demanded and Jack raised a brow before readying his weapon. Sam stilled his arm as he was about to move however, stilling his arm and shaking her head minimally, motioning to the people down below who had stormed the house. Jack noticed what she had.

These people weren’t like the feral would-be rapists they had dealt with. These people were different. Ordered. Military. A clear chain of command.

They were part of the rebellion.

Which meant that they had to surrender.

“Looking for us?” Jack asked as he stood up from hiding, his hands raised as twelve weapons turned to train on them on the landing above.

They were subdued with little force, their weapons confiscated and Jack felt that familiar tug of helplessness dig into his gut, up under his ribs. The only thing that kept the panic he felt at being attacked was the fact that these people were better equipped than the last group they’d run into trouble with, the leader a sharp eyed man who wasn’t looking at Carter with undisguised lust, but with _suspicion_.

“You are the outsiders. Responsible for the attacks.” He stated with little kindness, like they had been seeking them out to gain retribution against them for this skewed fact. “I’d like nothing more than to kill you both.”

“Don’t!” Jack turned, watching as the girl from earlier appeared from behind the adults that clogged the front room, her large eyes wide in her pale face, looking scared. “They saved me…please.” She begged, imploring the leader, reaching out in a familiar gesture to tug at his sleeve. The hard man did nothing to shove her away, merely eased her back from him gently, his hawk like eyes zooming in on them again.

“We aren’t responsible for anything, Pal.” Jack grated, feeling the sharp edge of anger stab at him. The man assessed their weapons, as if the foreign guns were testament to the fact that they were indeed responsible for everything that had transpired on this planet.

“The only reason you aren’t dead right now is because our leader wants to see you.” It was clear that he had argued with this choice vehemently, especially given the sneer he cast their way, as if he was disgusted with the very thought.

“You will come with us.” He continued.

Jack tensed. “Will we now.” He murmured on a low voice, eyes glimmering as he stared the man down unflinchingly. There was no way in hell he was going to go with these people without some pretty damn good incentive. Weapons or not, he wasn’t going to allow himself or Carter to be taken without a fight.

“Jack.” He felt Carter’s hand squeeze his arm, and he tilted his head towards her, not taking his unyielding gaze from the other man’s, a battle of wills going on in silence.

“This is what we wanted.” She reminded him pointedly, her fingers tight on his arm, telling him more than her words. She believed these people were the rebels they had been looking for. Strange how he had been so intent on finding them before, the only real thought in his mind for the last three months in hiding, but now that they were standing right here before them, tough as nails and ready to battle the Goa’uld who had claimed their planet like a piece of fodder, Jack wasn’t sure that his plan had been that smart after all.

But, despite his distrust of these people, she was right. They had been trying to find them for months. They had no choice.

“You will come freely.” The man stated with a nod, before he motioned to his men, the ones who had disarmed them. Jack wasn’t 100% sure why he always seemed to take Carter’s words and run with them. He guessed that over the years he had come to trust her thoughts like she had to trust his orders. _Off to meet the wizard_ …

*******************************

 

The first thing Jack noticed was the fact that the rebel leader was not a man, but in actual fact, a woman. Her eyes were steely and unemotional, which explained why these people followed her lead so diligently. She was short, with dark hair and a no-nonsense expression that cut him where he stood before her.

“You have been searching for us. Why?” She asked with a sneer, obviously having the opinion of the others under her command. Hell, she had probably been the one that had incited the little riot outside the Council buildings before the Goa’uld had attacked the planet.

“We have come to help.” He said, meeting the woman’s eyes with just as much fierce determination as she held within her, and she lifted her chin as if he had insulted her with his direct statement.

“Help?” She asked incredulously. “You are the _reason_ why this planet is under attack!” She said. One of the soldiers, if you could really call the crudely dressed gun-wielding individuals that, pressed into his shoulder to keep him still and Jack tensed.

He despised being touched. The amount of torture he had been through over the years was a testament to how much patience he was showing by not reacting to these men who thought to hold him.

“It was a coincidence.” Carter said from beside him, gaining a rough shove from one of the men who stood behind them, and he shot a glare over his shoulder as Carter regained her equilibrium.

The leader turned her slate like eyes on Carter, assessing her with some form of insolent respect. Obviously any woman who acted independently of a man gained her notice, and Carter was way beyond taking orders from him.

“And what do you think _you_ can help us with?” She asked, targeting her question at Carter, not him.

“Tactical knowledge.” Carter stated without hesitation. “We’ve come up against this enemy before.”

“My sources say the leader of these attackers is named…Camulus.” Maia said with narrowed eyes. Jack swore under his breath.

“I thought he had no army left.” He said to Carter. He had thought that the Goa’uld were on the run, their armies fallen to the Jaffa rebellion. The only one he could think of that had control of an army still was Ba’al.

“I thought he was _dead_.” She responded pointedly. Last time he had seen Camulus, he had been stepping through the Stargate with a dead ZPM on his way to disappoint his master Ba’al. Maybe Ba’al had forgiven him. Jack was a little put off by this new information. He had rubbed Camulus off his list of bad guys the moment they had sent him back to Ba’al with that dud ZPM.

“We know him.” Carter said to the rebel leader. Maia looked more interested in the help they could offer her by the minute.

“You will tell me everything you know.” Maia commanded firmly.

“And then?” Jack asked, gaining a nasty glare from the woman.

“Then you are both being traded for our freedom.” She stated, motioning for something behind their backs, her words nonchalant despite the desperation they incited within Jack. He didn’t look at Carter, his anger igniting as he shrugged off the man who held him still.

“And what exactly makes you think Camulus will just leave if you give us to him?” Jack demanded sharply, not caring if he sounded disrespectful. He knew exactly what Camulus would do to them if he got his hands on them. What the Goa’uld had probably done to the others already.

Maia regarded him calmly for a moment, as if sizing him up, considering whether she should bother telling the bait an important detail.

“The transmission we received.” She said.

“ _What_ transmission.” Jack asked suspiciously, glancing back towards Maia’s second-in-command who had shifted slightly, as if he disagreed with Maia’s strategy in telling him the truth.

“Kalen.” Maia said, meeting her second’s eyes. They seemed to have a silent argument before the tall man turned and stalked out of the room with a gruff curse, returning moment later with some kind of crude radio, placing it roughly on the table and motioning for Maia to have at it with a jerky hand movement.

The woman stepped forward and clicked a button, Camulus’ voice echoing in the room, the deep timbre that was so very clearly Goa’uld grating at Jack’s head. He had hoped to never hear that loathsome sound again.

_“Give me the two Taur’i infiltrators in your midst, and I will leave your pitiful planet. Do not, and I will raze it to the core.”_

“And you really think you can trust his word?” Carter demanded sharply. Jack turned to look at her, the frustration straining at her features vibrating outwards from her tension.

“We are not foolish.” Maia responded with just as much intensity. Carter smiled humourlessly, her eyes meeting the other woman’s.

“He won’t leave.” She said as a fact.

“Then we will use you both as a distraction so we can take back our planet by force. Our offenses have only failed because we had no effective distraction to succeed with our incursion. Now…we have something to bargain with.”

“This is insane. He isn’t even here for us. He won’t just give up the planet as easily as you think!” Carter continued to argue.

Jack wanted to reach out to her, to ease her anger, but he felt what she felt. That they had been searching for these people as a ray of hope, but had only found more darkness. More corruption. More sacrifice, as if they hadn’t already given up enough.

”Take them.” Maia stated, not even looking at them now, motioning for Kalen to do his duty.

It was a dismissal.

Her soldiers stepped forward. Jack watched Sam tense, looking for all the world like she was about three seconds from snapping completely and breaking out a fight right here in this small room. He did reach for her then, his fingers squeezing around her arm tightly. She turned fierce eyes on him, her eyes only darkening with that rebellious streak of unwillingness as he minimally shook his head to belay her reaction to these people and their plans.


	11. Sacrifice

Sam paced back and forth in the small room they had been afforded in the very back of the hidden facility. She hated being enclosed. It just reminded her that she was always a prisoner. To her feelings. To her job. To her heart.

She was so lost and she had no idea what she was supposed to do. About Jack. About this whole situation.

“Carter, would you relax…” He said from where he sat, stillness personified, on the edge of the bunk. Usually it was him who was unable to stay still, but she guessed the fact that they had been constantly running gave him a few moments of needing stillness, while she just couldn’t…stop.

“How can I?” She asked irritably. “They will sacrifice one or _both of us_ to Camulus…”

“Not both. Just me.” He stated calmly. She turned to him, her wide eyes narrowing on him sharply.

“And you are so willing to throw yourself into danger just so I don’t have to. You can’t keep doing that!” She argued vehemently.

“It’s my job.” He replied emotionlessly, keeping his expression blanked, keeping himself closed off to her –to them- stepping back into how they had been before. Separated. Detached. Unemotional. Strictly professional. Doing what he thought had to be done. He had always been so willing to sacrifice himself for her, and she had foolishly thought that had changed in the last few months. His uncompromising intention to protect her no matter the cost to himself. She guessed that some things would never change between them.

“No. It’s _not_ Jack!” she snapped, turning to glare at him, her eyes flashing on his as he assessed her features.

“Don’t make this personal, Sam.” He said, meeting her gaze with no regret.

“It already is.” She said, turning away from him again. He was behind her in moments, turning her to face him, his eyes narrowed on hers.

“Don’t fall apart on me here, Carter. Not when we are so close. We’ll be back on Earth soon…”

“Which makes this more insane!”

“Carter…”

“Camulus could just kill you.” She argued rationally.

“And this is our best chance to get access to the gate. We need Maia’s forces.” He responded firmly, his military persona snapping to the fore with her insubordinate argument. She wasn’t going to be waylaid however.

“What are you talking about?” She asked irritably.

Before he could say anything more, which she suspected Jack was glad for, Maia and Kalen entered the room, eyes sharp with determination and an authoritarian air that Sam knew was not going to bode well for them.

“A decision has been made.” Maia stated without preamble.

“By all means, let’s hear it.” Jack said, gesturing towards her, purposefully antagonising the woman with his words. Maia’s eyes narrowed on him for a moment before she continued, unruffled by his tone.

“You know this enemy. You will act as a distraction while we lead a revolt on the Jaffa and overrun his forces.” Maia said matter-of-factly. This woman was not used to being disobeyed.

“You can’t do that. Listen, if we can get to the Stargate, we can call reinforcements to help you take out the Jaffa.” Carter argued.

“And you’re asking us to trust you? People who are the reason we were attacked in the first place. This enemy Camulus is here because of _you_.” Kalen said angrily, tensing.

“No. He’s here to enslave your people. Not to get at _us_. He wouldn’t even have known we were here. It’s a coincidence. Listen, if you let us get help from our world, I can almost guarantee that Camulus will give up this fight.” Jack stated.

“We can’t make our decisions based on untrustworthy promises.” Maia responded with a shake of her head.

“Use us as bait and you’ll be on your own.” Jack warned strongly, sitting back abruptly, arms crossed, meeting the woman’s hard gaze unflinchingly.

Maia looked undecided. “We must make it look like we are surrendering, and the only way to do that is give him what he wants. _You_.”

“What about one of us?” Jack asked, and both women turned to look at him, Sam with an expression of wariness, Maia with an intelligently intense light in her dark eyes.

“Explain.” Maia demanded sharply.

“Let one of us join your people on the revolt.” He bargained diplomatically. He would at least make sure Carter got back to Earth. No matter the cost.

“Jack…” Carter began with a shake of her head.

“That does not take away from the fact we need one of you as a distraction.” Maia interrupted, her brow furrowing with her annoyance with their insistence and their argument, the debate obviously wearing thin on her patience.

“Use me.” Jack said simply.

There was a reason that he simplified everything he came in contact with. Simplified the enemy. She knew why now. Because if they were _simple_ , if the truth of their domination and threat was limited, then he could perceive ways to beat the odds. Maybe that was what had saved their lives more so than her technical advice or Daniel’s knowledge, or Teal’c’s brute strength and skill with weaponry. Maybe it was Jack simplifying things all along. In math, she knew that when you simplified a problem, it was easier to see the feint lines of a solution underscoring the equation.

She felt a moment of awed levity as she figured that out. Because she was looking a little closer than she had ever allowed herself to look before.

“No.” Carter said angrily, not keeping the glare from her expression, not even hesitating to act in an insubordinate manner. Jack had to put his foot down. He didn’t want to throw those walls back up, but, if he wanted to ensure her safety, he had to place those barriers back up. That he was in control. He was her CO.

“You’ll go with them. Contact the SGC. Get these people the help they need to take back the planet. I’ll be going to visit my old friend.” Jack said, resigned to what he had to do. His life for Carter’s. For all of them. It was a small price to pay.

“Jack, you can’t…” Sam began.

“That’s an order, Colonel.” He said, the edges of his voice snapping with the harsh reality that no matter how much time slipped by, those barriers would always be there under the surface. They couldn’t pretend like that would just fade away after ten years of those strict lines dictating their words and their actions. He couldn’t let it. She was too important. More important than him anyway.

He would do anything to try to heal the haunted, hollow wounds that had opened up just beneath her surface.

Her lips pressed together against whatever retort she wanted to throw at him, her sudden rigidness revealing that she knew that the lines were still there just as well as he did. She said nothing, and he had the feeling that the only thing that had stilted her comeback was the fact that Maia was standing there watching their exchange with curious interest.

She had always been an insanely private person. Right now, he doubted her reluctance to throw a retort back had anything to do with regulations.

Jack turned back to Maia. “Let us help. You want tactical advantage, and we can give it to you.”

Maia stared hard at him, glancing at Carter and nodded shortly, as if recognising the sacrifice he was willing to make to ensure Carter’s safety. A fact she seemed to respect.

“Remain here. I will organise my men and return with the specifics of the mission.” Jack didn’t pull his gaze from Carter’s, the deep hurt and accusation there taking him back years. Back to a moment on the gate ramp when his very integrity had been tested and questioned, not by a mission gone awry, but by _her_.

Beguiling blue eyes cutting through him, trying to find a man that she had more faith in than he had in himself.

She was seeking that now. Some reason why he was still so willing to sacrifice himself for her. Like he ever really had a choice.

Maia exited the room, leaving them in a burning, tense silence –until Carter reengaged.

“Jack, you are the best chance we have of getting those reinforcements and _you know it_. I will have to be surrendered as bait…” She said without hesitation. It seemed she was just as willing to sacrifice herself to this as he was. She wouldn’t even think twice, and for her -given her penchant for overthinking things- that was really saying something. For him, she was willing to ignore the analytical side of herself, and that scared him most of all.

“No way in hell Carter.” He said stiffly. There was no way in hell he would let her face Camulus alone. At _all_. He would deal with the sanctimonious and resilient snake himself.

“It’s our best chance.” She argued defiantly, her eyes flashing with anger at him. For sacrificing himself again and again for her.

“No.” He said, leaving no room for argument.

“But…”

“I said _no_ Carter. Or are you so willing to defy a direct order?!” He demanded, glaring at her with as much posturing of rank as he could possibly manage in this unconventional situation.

“This is ridiculous. You _know_ what he will do when he realises he has you!” She replied, ignoring his question of defying orders so effortlessly.

“Yes, I do, and I will deal with it.” He replied calmly.

“Jack…”

“Sam.” He pinned her with a look and she stared back, her eyes hard, jaw tense with her frustration, but she seemed to wilt, knowing that he wasn’t planning to change his mind. This fact, instead of curbing her anger at him, seemed only to frustrate her further.

She turned away from him.


	12. Enemy

Jack had never been one to willingly turn himself over to an enemy, but, in these circumstances, it was undoubtedly necessary, despite the instinctual pull within him that dictated he evade.

As he was led out of the facility by some of Maia and Kalen’s men, he glanced back over his shoulder while continuing his suicide walk, seeing Carter standing there in the centre of the command room, completely still as the revolutionaries swelled and shifted around her, the significance of that one last glimpse not lost on him.

They both knew that it could possibly be the last time they saw each other.

Standing there though, he’d never seen her look stronger, his back straight, stiff, her jaw ticing in that way that said she was determined not to show her vulnerability despite her eyes revealing so much of what her body never would. Her clothing, darkened with grime, the vest she wore over the thin shirt revealing the slim lines of her curves, hollowed out from all the physical exertion of the last few months and low rations they had survived on, making her look like she belonged amongst these rebels.

He turned away at the last possible moment, continuing onwards, knowing that he was essentially doing the right thing. At least this way, Carter would be safe.

With her help, the rebel forces would most assuredly win the revolt. Especially seeing as for the last few hours she had been showing them how to make crude explosive out of the bare essentials.

When the two men left him at the co-ordinates agreed to by Camulus, weapon less and alone, they avoided looking at him straight, like they feared some kind of consequence were they to bother looking him in the eye. Like they already considered him a casualty.

He stood firm as they retreated, waiting, and when the Jaffa arrived to cart him off to Camulus’s mother ship, the leader’s expression could only be explained as victorious, obviously believing that the very moment they took him into custody meant the success of Camulus’ attack on this planet, his insidious claim of it and its people finally complete.

“Where is the other one?” The Jaffa demanded, his smug expression faltering as he glanced around for Carter, figuring he must have missed her on his first sweep of his surroundings.

“Other?” Jack asked, feigning confusion. Something he pulled off so easily.

“The woman!” The Jaffa said impatiently, growing angry.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Jack responded, earning himself a nasty jab to the abdomen from the butt of the leader’s staff weapon. He doubled over from the harsh thrust of the weapon, exhaling sharply.

“Bring him.” The Jaffa commanded his underlings, seeming to Jack like his day had been ruined. What a shame that was.

Jack was hauled back to his feet, trying to ignore the stab of pain from the blow he had received, resisting the unbelievably sharp temptation he felt to repay the Jaffa in kind. He didn’t. Instead, he grudgingly allowed the Jaffa to drag him onto the cargo ship.

*******************************

Jack was nudged along the council building hallways to a ring platform that had been newly splayed out by where the Stargate used to be after they had landed back in the city, and he felt a moment of Déjà vu as the rings activated and he found himself up on Camulus mothership, prodded along another hallway towards what Jack knew was the control room.

Camulus was sitting on his throne looking calm and collected, his expression blank besides the tipping of his lips in a self-satisfied smirk Jack was convinced the man must have learnt off Ba’al himself.

“So –long time, huh?” Jack said as he was shoved down unceremoniously to his knees, trying valiantly to ignore the jolting pain. “Last time I saw you, I could have _sworn_ I was seeing a dead man walking.” He taunted hollowly. His heart wasn’t into the antagonising however. Too much had darkened his perception in the last few months.

“Why are you and your team on this planet?” Camulus asked, ignoring his words with a tense jaw, obviously still holding a grudge against him for sending him to Ba’al with a deadened ZPM.

“I’m on _vacation_ ….or at least I was until you and yours showed up. This place has the best fishing holes in three solar systems.” Jack said, watching the Goa’uld for a reaction. A weakness. _Achilles heel_.

“Enough!” Camulus said, coming up off his throne in a fit of anger, his chest rising and falling with his temper, eyes dark and full of malice as he scowled. “This world is mine, and you will not stop me from claiming it!”

“Why do you guys have to _claim_ everything?” he asked, unfazed by his tempestuous captor who seemed three seconds away from exploding with rage. “I mean, come on – _galactic domination_?! Really? Tell me –are you Pinky…or the Brain?”

Camulus back handed him harshly, sending him reeling onto the polished floor beneath him, the side of his head hitting the ground seeing as he couldn’t brace himself due to how his hands were tethered behind his back. Grey spots exploded behind his lids, momentarily making him forget his other injuries, including his sprained wrist that had been throbbing like a bitch.

Camulus seemed to calm himself, his eyes flashing yellow with his fury.

“I will not kill you… _yet_.” He began, his voice smooth. “But if you do not tell me where the rebel base is…”

“You’ll what? Kill me?” Jack asked as he pushed himself back onto his knees. One of the Jaffa came forward and opened his staff weapon, training it at his back where he couldn’t see him. Camulus held his hand up to still his Jaffa.

“You will regret not cooperating O’Neill.” He said, his whole body stiffened with tension at his antagonising words –but, Jack guessed that the snake needed him- otherwise he would already be dead.

“Cam, _buddy_ , you have to know that is the biggest cliché in the big book of lameness…”

“You try my patience.” Camulus said, a tic in his jaw as he glared down on him like a piece of dirt that wouldn’t just wash away. It was a realisation that sent him awash in pride.

“I guess my work here is done then, huh?” He continued. He knew he should probably shut the hell up seeing as he was at a disadvantage right now, but, he couldn’t. This Goa’uld before him had once begged for sanctuary on Earth, broken and without a loyal soldier in his army. He had been expecting death when he stepped back through the gate, and now, he thought to intimidate _him_? When Jack had seen him cowered on Earth ready to agree to any terms he stated to continue his pathetic, pitiful life.

Jack wouldn’t be bowing to him. Hell no.

“Where is your Colonel Carter?” Camulus asked, ignoring his last words. Jack levelled a dark glare on the Goa’uld, and then removed all emotion from his features. Staring up at him for a moment blankly.

“Dead. She was killed in the first attack.” He lied, keeping his features neutrally blank. Camulus approached him, and lifted his hand up which was encased in a ribbon device, his eyes flashing.

“You lie.” He snarled.

“Why would I bother doing that?” He asked, the tang of blood on his tongue sickening, getting ready for the pain to come. The Goa’uld activated the device, yellow light bringing mind melting agony. His mind began to burn, the pain of the infliction agonising as his head began to throb, unable to see anything but Camulus’ eyes as he fought to remain conscious against the onslaught.

“ _Where…is…Colonel Carter_.” Camulus repeated the question slowly and Jack gritted his teeth.

“ _Dead!_ ” He yelled, and Camulus released him. He fell backwards, breathing recklessly as his body attempted to recover from the mind attack, body lagging behind his mind.

“Torture the truth out of him.” The Goa’uld commanded, moving back to sit on his throne as Jack was hauled back to his knees. One of the Jaffa came to face him, wielding a torture rod, charging it before jamming it into his side.

Oh yeah, he hadn’t missed this about going off world…


	13. Revolt

Sam ducked down behind a crumbled stone wall with Maia and Kalen at either side of her, like the two rebels didn’t trust her not to destroy their plans despite the lengths she had gone to help them strategize its success.

She watched the enemy from her position, the area crawling with Jaffa troops in the centre of the government facility. A cargo ship was taking up a good portion of the square where the Stargate was now situated, removed from within the broken and abandoned building to stand against the backdrop of a smouldering bonfire. The remnants of books lay gutted and spilling out away from the burning embers beneath, more books and documents were thrown down by soldiers like some sick rendition of the Nazi actions, igniting, the pages curling in protest. The planets history burning so easily just like the rest of the buildings had.

The last time she had been here, the Stargate had still been inside the building, but now, it stood surrounded and out in the open, like the Jaffa considered the rearrangement important in their new leadership over the people here. That they could make any changes they saw fit without challenge.

A few humans stood shackled to one side of the currently inactive gate, looking defeated and worn to the bone, and her eyes narrowed on the faces, the hollow expressions, resigned to the fate that was going to greet them. Whatever that was.

Two stood out from the rest and her eyes took in the faces of her team-mates hungrily, relieved to see that both Daniel and Teal’c –despite looking a little battered and just as worn as the locals- were still alive.

Maia nudged her, passing her one of the crudely made explosive’s she’d helped them make to hand over to Kalen. She did so, turning to press her back to the pylon, nodding to Maia who darted off towards another broken wall across the square to plant one of the bombs. Kalen nodded to her, and then moved off to do the same, leaving Sam alone, watching Kalen’s back as he ran to the underside of the cargo ship, beginning to secure the bomb to the ship.

She really hated to blow it to hell, but, it would work as a perfect distraction for her to get to the gate and dial Earth.

The fact that she had no Earth radio anymore hadn’t dissuaded her from this attempt at getting some reinforcements. She wasn’t even sure that Landry would approve it, seeing as they had all been MIA for so many months, but she had to at least try. It was a long shot. She knew that.

She didn’t want to feel helpless anymore. Trying anything would be better than doing nothing.

Maia returned, pressing her back to the wall again beside her, handling her weapon with a surety that impressed her. Maia was just as militarily inclined as she was, and she had to respect that fact if nothing else about the uncompromising woman.

“You will go straight for the dialling device once I give the order to detonate your bombs, Carter.” Maia murmured, Sam’s surname on her lips sounding foreign to her ears. Usually only Jack called her ‘Carter’.

She knew that the woman doubted her ability to get the reinforcements she had promised. It was a bluff on Sam’s part, despite her desire for Landry to come through for them. Maia was watching her a little too closely, like she suspected that she wouldn’t be able to get what she had vowed.

Sam ignored the other woman, watching as Kalen, hunkered down, came back to their position to take cover.

Carter offered Maia the detonator she had cobbled together, lifting her head over the top of the debris to get another look at Daniel and Teal’c positions in relativity to the ship and to the wall that would come tumbling down with the secondary incendiary device Maia had planted.

“Jaffa!” Sam turned her head, watching as a new Jaffa came striding confidently out of the building to the left of the ship, and she hunched down a little lower to see what was happening, hesitating with her thumb planted on the trigger of her weapon, narrowing her gaze on the First Prime, his golden emblem glinting in the dull, grey light filtering down from behind thick clouds. He was lanky and fierce, the dark grey cloak he wore billowing outwards, not even intimidated enough to carry his own weapon, instead relying on one of his soldiers to carry his staff for him. He had obviously just ringed down from the mother ship that was hovering over the planet, blotting out a good portion of the sky above. Sam guessed that they had planted their own ring platform somewhere inside the fractured facility.

Two Jaffa stepped forward from their positions by the Stargate, shoving Daniel and Teal’c  out rom amongst the other prisoners, pressing them forcefully to their knees before  the leader like supplicants, the faces of the humans stark in fear at the display going on before them.

“Your time as a blasphemer has come to an end, Shol’va!” The steely-eyes First Prime stated with too much glee glinting in his gaze as he looked at Teal’c, like his mere presence was an affront to his very livelihood.

He took the staff weapon his second offered to him slowly, moving fluidly, but with a calmness about him, as if he was in no rush to end Teal’c life, and yet, would take great pleasure in doing so. As if he had been waiting for a long time to be given the permission to kill him.

He stepped back a pace before he turned the weapon on Teal’c, a malicious smirk on his too-handsome face. Sam moved to act, not caring if the revolt succeeded now in the face of this threat. She would not let Teal’c die here. If she didn’t do something right now, both of them would be killed and she would not have that on her conscience like the rest of the traumatic events that had transpired on this planet. They were _not_ expendable.

Before she could lurch to her feet and fire on the Jaffa, Kalen yanked her down by her vest, his dark gaze shooting through her with anger.

“Are you insane?” He asked, clearly thinking she was. Sam grabbed his jacket, yanking him slightly, getting into his face.

“Blow it now.” She demanded strongly, meeting the man’s eyes fiercely, ensuring he saw her resolve to see that ship in pieces _right now_.

He leaned back and flipped the switch on the detonator without further question.

The ground shook with the massive explosion, sending them hunching down into the jagged stone at their back, the noise deafening this close to the detonation, debris raining down around them where they sat, barely out of harm’s way.

Maia cursed with the rippling tremor disjointing her voice, vibrating under them, and she flicked her own switch, the secondary explosion further away from their position and yet no less destructive. Sam was on her feet in seconds, handling her weapon and precisely plugging a bullet into the Jaffa who turned to shoot at her, standing between her and the ‘gate, the First Prime crumpling so very easily with the force of her bullet, Daniel and Teal’c had fallen on to their sides, having dropped to the ground the moment the explosion had taken out the ship in a vacuum of fire and thundering decimation.

The other Rebels attacked the Jaffa soldiers, shooting first and not even considering keeping any of them alive to ask questions later, the brutal attack billowing around her as she sprinted for the DHD. She ignored the shouts of the Jaffa and the war cries of the rebels, skidding into the DHD and hunkering down, slapping her fingers into the symbols methodically, running on instinct. She threw her whole body onto the red button in the centre before she was ducking back behind the device once more to avoid being hit by stray staff blasts. The wormhole engaged, the unstable vortex sweeping outwards before forming the event horizon, casting the whole area into illumination, the sound of the gate activating drowning out the fire fight for only a moment before the sound sharpened once more, gunfire echoing once more around her –vibrating in her head after so much time steeped in impenetrable silence.

She handled the makeshift radio that the rebels had fashioned, hoping like hell that she had matched the frequency right so she could contact the SGC.

“Stargate Command, this is Colonel Samantha Carter. Authorisation code Alpha Charlie 5-Oh-7-3 Delta. Requesting assistance!” She said into the crude radio, her heart pounding as she waited to hear a response over the static as a staff blast zoomed close be the edge of the DHD, sending dirt up into the air, forcing her to squint lest she get the grit in her eyes. She pressed back further against the device, turning, seeing that Teal’c was now assisting in the fight, having snagged the Staff weapon that had been in the hands of his would-be murderer, who now lay dead on the ground from her own bullet.

“Colonel, what is your status?” Landry’s voice echoed over the line and she fought the relief she felt at hearing his familiar voice.

“Under attack, Sir. Camulus has invaded P2C-477.  A revolt is underway led by a rebel faction, but we have no hope of succeeding without reinforcements, Sir.” She yelled, meeting Teal’c’s eyes as he turned after having shot a Jaffa, his body falling close to her position where he had been trying to get in position to kill her.

“Colonel Carter, more Jaffa approach! There are too many.” He called over the distance.

“Sir, we cannot hold this position for much longer, I repeat, this position is about to be compromised. Requesting back-up!” She tried again, waiting for the response, desperate now. _Come one, come on_.

“Back up on the way, Colonel. Landry out.”

The wormhole shut down and Sam dropped the radio to the ground at her thigh before she turned and lifted her weapon, taking out another Jaffa warrior, seeing exactly what Teal'c had meant. Another patrol had just appeared, suggesting that one of the initial Jaffa had managed to escape up to the mother ship and alert the others of the revolt.

She was struggling to see through the smoke and flames that debilitated the once peaceful square, the buildings now in more disrepair than before given their current attack, and Sam continued to fire on the enemy, finding no peace as the Stargate opened behind her, the promise of reinforcements now so close.

“Teal’c! We need to cover the Stargate!” She called, just as Daniel popped up from behind a chunk of one of the buildings, a Zat in his hand, firing off a couple of shots before he was ducking back behind the mediocre cover.

Teal’c stood abruptly, gaining the attention of the newly approaching Jaffa, sprinting away from the Stargate, forcing them to fire on him as Sam took out another of the soldiers still aiming on the open ‘gate.

An SG team stepped through the wormhole, immediately taking cover, firing on the enemy with precision and without hesitation.

The Jaffa began to retreat, realising that the Stargate was no longer under their control, their leader, the First Prime, laid dead in the dirt.

The fight was over only minutes later, and Sam lurched to her feet, facing the Major who was leading the team Landry had sent, a relatively new recruit to the Stargate program from what Sam could recall.

“Secure the area, Major.” She commanded abruptly, her mind elsewhere.

“Yes, Ma’am!”

“Where are the others?” she asked, turning as Daniel and Teal’c approached her position, the Major running off to dial back to Earth.

“Still on the ship. Most of the others have already been sent to the mining camp off-world. Camulus is trying to build up his forces to become the big bad in the galaxy.” Daniel explained, his eyes too focused on her reactions, and the fact that she couldn’t really care about what Camulus wanted to do. Because she wasn’t going to let him.

“Have you see Jack?” she asked, feeling a coldness seep inside her when Daniel’s expression revealed that he hadn’t.

“Jack? No. I thought he was with you.” Daniel responded, concern rippling his brow.

“He gave himself up to Camulus to act as a distraction.” She replied, emotion dragging at her as her fear for him increased.

She moved swiftly towards the ring platform, following the retreating Jaffa, stepping over the bodies that littered the way into the building. Kalen and his men were on her six, and she realised that Daniel and Teal’c were also behind her.

“Sam, Camulus has been torturing us for your whereabouts. He knew both you and Jack were in hiding. One of the council members told him everything he wanted to know.” Daniel informed, saying much more. Camulus had been desperate to find Jack and her. She suspected that the Goa’uld may have even come to _fear_ Jack. He had been intimidated by the General when he had gained asylum on Earth. Under his control. Humiliated. Submitting to a race he perceived as weaker than him was more painful for a Goa’uld than actual physical torture.

“We need to take that ship.” She said firmly to Kalen who nodded stiffly, and then led his men towards the platform. She reached down to one of the Jaffa who lay dead and snagged the wrist activation device for the rings and stood upright, lifting her eyes to Teal’c and Daniel.

Her heart was in her throat as she thought of what Camulus would do to Jack. He would want to reinsert himself as the alpha after the humiliation he’d felt on Earth.

No Goa’uld liked to feel inferior. Especially to a human. And Jack had always had a penchant for pissing off the Goa’uld more so than any other person Sam knew. Which only made her concern increase.


	14. Pain

Jack awoke in pain, his whole body stiffened from lying in the slumped heap where he had been left in Camulus’ gaudy throne room. His eyes were in direct line to the dais, which was currently empty of the current bane of his existence.

He could tasted the blood that had thickened at the side of his mouth, his ribs feeling like something was pressing on them every time he took a breath. He had been tortured before of course, but this… _was agony._ Maybe it felt worse because he felt it _now_ , and it wasn’t some screwed up memory from past torture sessions.

Maybe it _was_ worse.

He groaned, the sound vibrating in his chest before he realised that he had made the noise, and after taking a moment to look around to assure he was alone in here, he rolled slowly to his back, the pressure on his ribs easing. He stared up at the high ceiling, wondering if Camulus realised that his cockiness would get him killed. Leaving him in his throne room without a guard posted? And not tied up?

Any minute now he would find the strength to get to his feet. To stand and find some weapon.

For now, there was no threat though, so he took this time to figure out exactly what injuries he had.

Broken ribs.

 _Check_.

Dental work.

 _Check_.

He was bleeding from somewhere, which would account for the dizziness he felt which he was sure wasn’t all to do with the concussion he was sporting.

He moved his legs, finding a sharp pain splice up his left leg and he gasped, feeling the curse on his tongue, but unable to speak it due to the pain galloping through his body.

He _so_ shouldn’t have moved that.

Broken leg.

 _Check_.

All he needed now was for Carter to splint it, and he’d be in heaven. Truly.

He attempted to sit up, pulling himself up and back against the closest wall, the gold hieroglyphs digging into his back. He was trailing blood. He looked down, finding that he was bleeding from a laceration on his leg where it was broken. The bone had obviously jutted through his skin when it had been snapped, and he understood why it had hurt so damn much before he’d passed out. If there was a time for numbness to set in, this would be it.

But it didn’t; the throbbing growing so bad that he thought for a moment that he would prefer to be unconscious again.

Looked like he wasn’t moving too far, which was a damn shame, because he had a hankering for Camulus blood at this moment. He guessed the god hadn’t thought he would be getting up again either. Thus why he had no guards on him.

He’d sit here for just a moment, and then-

“Your usefulness has run out O’Neill.” Camulus stated, sweeping into the room imperially, his cold, malicious expression telling Jack that this was probably it. It was over. He had no energy left to fight. No way to resist. The yellow light from the ribbon device billowed in his vision, and just as he felt the effects entwine around his senses, his last conscious thoughts were of Sam and the fact that Camulus was so screwed when she found him.

 _Sam_.

**********

Sam rushed through the lower levels of the ship, her heart thudding painfully against her ribs as she lead Daniel and Teal’c, who had refused to stay behind.

The assault of the rebels and the SGC’s own incursion on the Jaffa forces had depleted their numbers and they would be beaten very soon, but Sam didn’t care about any of that. Because Jack was missing.

She darted into the holding cell passageway and shot the Jaffa who turned to shoot them, not playing games. No hesitation. Maybe it was cold. Maybe she should have given him a chance to join the rebellion, but… she was at the end of her rope with this whole thing. She wanted to find Jack and get him out of here.

“Sam.”

She ignored Daniel, moving swiftly to the controls of the cells, pulling the crystal tray and tearing out the first crystal she reached which forced the doors to jerk open. Frightened screams echoed in the passage, and thankfully, Daniel didn’t push her, instead helping to calm the scared refugees who started to flood out of the rooms.

“Jack?” She called out, getting nothing in return, and a moment later, both Mitchell and Vala appeared, Vala supporting a banged-up Mitchell, who was leaning heavily on the slim woman, his face pale, holding his ribs and sporting a painfully split black eye.

“Making friends, Mitchell?” Daniel asked with a raised brow, helping Vala with the heavy man, ducking under his arm to hold him upright.

“Where’s Jack?” Sam demanded sharply, the expression on Mitchell’s face turning her stomach inside out. He didn’t answer, Vala jumping in for him.

“We haven’t seen the General in months. About the same amount of time you have been missing… we all thought you were dead, except Daniel…”

“Daniel, get Mitchell back to Earth with Vala. Teal’c…we have to search this ship. Jack is here.” She said, feeling desperation tear at her stomach. _Please, God, let him be okay_.

She turned and sprinted off; handling the small radio that Maia had given her. “Maia, have you seen Jack?” She asked as she ran, voice jolting as she moved, Teal’c following her silently.

“I have not.” Came the crackled response.

“Kalen?” She asked, feeling impatient as she paused in her steps, waiting for the response. Silence in the static. For a moment she considered the fact that he may very well be ignoring her out of spite even though the plan had worked and their planet was close to being free once more.

“We have taken the ships controls. Your Jack is here.” Kalen replied, his calm voice sending relief through her. She closed her eyes for a moment, before she got a hold of herself and began to move swiftly towards the throne room.


	15. Healing

Sam dropped down beside Jack’s prone form, horrified by what she was seeing, the extent of damage buffeted over his body, the blood and livid bruising making her swallow back her panic.

“Jack…” She whispered on a barely suppressed sob, her voice breaking, reaching out shaking fingers to touch him.

“He needs medical attention!” She said back over her shoulder desperately, and saw Teal’c move swiftly from the room in her periphery before she was turning back to look at Jack.

“Carter…” He murmured, trying but failing to sit up. He was bleeding. Profusely, his pants torn and bloody over his lower leg which she knew was injured pretty badly given the amount of blood. He was _awake_.

She met his dark eyes that were filled with pain.

“Just hold on…” she whispered as she got a good look at his face, his cheek busted open and bleeding, eye bruised and closed, his mouth bloody.

“It’s not as bad as it looks.” He attempted to say, his voice rough as he spoke through his pain.

“What else…?” She asked, feeling emotions swell in her chest.

“Ribs.” He murmured on a halting breath. Sam darted to her feet, swinging her eyes around the room to where Camulus was now unconscious on the floor with one of Maia’s men standing over him. She walked purposefully towards him, pulling her handgun from its holster. It was empty of course, useless, but she wasn’t going to let him know that.

 She yanked him upwards, waking him with her rough movements, cocking the gun and pressing it to his head as she gripped the front of his elaborately decorated tunic.

“The healing device, where is it?” She demanded harshly.

“You will not heal him. He will die here!” He snarled, and she pulled the gun back, slamming it into the face that was so smugly staring up at her. He howled with the pain as his nose broke, and blood poured down his chin.

“Where…is…the healing device?” She asked again, his eyes flashing as he looked up at her, her bold move telling him that she wasn’t just threat. He began to look fearful, and Sam knew –without a doubt- she _would_ kill this creature without hesitation or remorse.

“You are human.” He spat. “You wouldn’t…”

“Tell me where it is or I will ensure that you receive every goddamned injury he has times ten. _Where is it?!_ ” She yelled, pressing the gun back to his head, squeezing slightly down on the trigger, making sure that he felt every little movement.

“One more inch and your dead.” She said on a low whisper, a promise, eyes on his as he attempted to breathe through his mouth.

“In the compartment, behind the throne.” He said, finally realising that she wasn’t just bluffing. She stood up and holstered her weapon, moving towards the back of the throne, finding the panel where he hid all his toys, undoing it. Sure enough, the healing device sat there, Jack’s only salvation. And perhaps Camulus’ as well.

She crossed the room in three fast steps, dropping down at Jack’s side, who had lost consciousness again. Her heart almost skipped a frightened beat as she thought that maybe he had succumbed. She reached down and pressed her fingers to his pulse point, seeking an answer to that worrisome question. _‘Don’t be dead…please…’_ She thought, almost slumping in relief as she felt his pulse.

She moved her fingers from his neck and slipped the healing device over her hand, raising it to his chest first. She could feel the broken ribs there, getting a sense of them exactly where and how they were broken, but she felt the give of the device as it stopped working, only having healed a portion of the broken bones. The control of the device was ruled by emotion, and she was way too close to this, the pressure of needing it to work heavy on her, the fatigue making this almost too much for her body and mind to contend with. Dizziness washed over her.

*******************************

Sam felt frustrated tears of agony crest in her eyes as he lay there unmoving, the healing device working slowly, but he still wasn’t waking. All her energy went into the process, needing it to work. Needing to not fail him like she seemed to be doing so much lately. She wasn’t going to let him die here. Not in Camulus’ throne room when they were so close to just going home. Back to Earth.

“Work!” She said, the strength it took to activate the device after so much time of not touching anything that would remind her of what was in her blood taking its toll. Every time she had come in contact with any of the Goa’uld technology, she was left feeling violated and uncertain. She had been stilted in her attempts to use the device after she had unwittingly made Daniel’s pain worse when he had been poisoned by the radiation. That memory seized her now, but she fought the panic that swamped her. But now…Jack’s life depended on her. He would die before she could get him back to the SGC for help.

She couldn’t fail this time. It was either her or Camulus, and she had the feeling that not even a sarcophagus could save him from the wrath of Maia and her band of merry men. She had no sympathy for what they would inflict on him. And she had no intention of stopping them when they came to drag his sorry ass out of here.

She cursed, growing more determined, taking a steadying breath and shaking away the exhaustion. She closed her eyes, holding the device over his chest again.

“ _Come on!_ ” She murmured as she got it working again, moving her attention to his broken leg, thinking that it was better if he was unconscious for that. The bone was jutting up through his pants, the blood that had thickened the material still seeping past the congealed mess that was his wound. Her eyes snapped open as a grunt came from his lips.

**********

Jack opened his eyes to see Carter leaning over him, her body trembling, eyes closed as she used the Goa’uld healing device on him. He could feel the regeneration, his wounds tingling as the pain lessened in his body, and he grunted as his ribs gave a nasty throb before straightening into place. Her eyes snapped open, focusing on his face, the watery blue depths telling him how worried she had been. How worried she _was_.

“When you want dental work, never, _ever_ go for the back-alley Goa’uld option. You’ll regret it.” Jack said as he coughed, a drip of blood slipping from his lips.

“You son of a bitch!” She said fiercely before she hugged him, her arms around him tightly. He flinched as his ribs gave a particularly nasty throb when she wrapped her arms around him, but he didn’t push her away –glad for the moment of pain. At least he knew he was alive.

“I thought…” she swallowed, and he tightened his arms around her as she shook, feeling her emotion as she exhaled against the side of his neck.

“I have a guardian angel on my side.” He murmured and eased up on her when she pulled back, her hands coming up to cup his face.

“Don’t ever do that again!” She said angrily, the deep pain in her gaze as she held her tears at bay tearing into him. Her grip on him eased slightly as she took in his bruised features, the pain he had felt not as significant now that she had healed the worst of his injuries.

“I’m okay.” He promised. “I’m okay.” He drew her back against him, giving her comfort.

“Let’s go home.” She murmured softly, and he closed his eyes, letting the weariness tugging at his bones wrap around him for a moment.

It was over.


	16. Escapism

After the debrief, where all of them remained almost morbidly morose through the whole thing, like pieces of themselves hadn’t quite returned to their rightful order, Sam had left the base. Escaped really. A voice in her head muttering about fresh air and space. She went home like after any other normal mission, ignoring the pull of her lab which had sat untouched in her absence.

Staring around her kitchen she had realised how _quiet_ it was. How unaffected this world was, a fact that only made her feel uncomfortable in her own skin, like a part of her was too tainted to return here to this normalcy and this safety while he mind whirled with thoughts and emotions and fears which seemed to have been left in a pile on the other side of the galaxy by a gate now associated with destruction and servitude.

The first thing she really recognised about her house was that her plants were definitely unsalvageable, the wilted and deadened leaves drooping to the edge of her kitchen window, adhering to the curve of the wooden sill as if searching for the water that was inaccessible within the unused kitchen sink.

Except of course for the tiny novelty cactus plant that Mitchell had given her last time her off-world duty had been drawn out, almost killing her last batch of plants because of neglect.

_‘If you’re so fond of having something living in your house while you’re gone, why not have something that will survive your neglect?’_

His words felt much more profound in this moment as she stared at the spiked plant, equating it with her own survival when the essential things had been stripped from her these last few months.

It made her feel better, and yet, as she was faced with throwing out the rest of her dead plants, a testament that maybe she shouldn’t try to take care of something living and breathing, she couldn’t do it.

It was too much. Too soon.

Something dead thrown away like trash. Like a boy left lying in his own blood on a distant landing.

She checked her blinking messages in some modicum of further normalcy, but, she didn’t make any attempts to call her brother back. From his messages, she gathered that he had no idea that she had been stranded off world or that she had come close to dying again. A few times.

It just brought the realisation home that what she did at the SGC would never gain her the notice of family, or allow her to cultivate anything meaningful like she had once tried to do with Pete. Now, as she thought back, she wasn’t sure if it had been foolishness that had dictated her need to have someone to come home to outside the SGC, or just some dormant need within her to prove that she could keep something alive besides her plants.

Well… her cactus at least.

She ate take-away because nothing in her fridge was worth eating, drank coffee while she sat in the ringing silence, her mind not even remotely focused on the here and now.

She’d run herself a bath, intent on enjoying the water that wasn’t hard come by. Revelling in something as simple as this felt unnatural after so long merely rushing through the process for hygiene’s sake and not just for the sake of the pleasure of being completely clean. Something the shower she had taken before leaving base and changing into the civvies that had sat untouched in her locker for months hadn’t quite managed to do. She still felt…gritty. But maybe that feeling was just in her head.

She’d made a promise to herself that she would stay in the bath for more than a minute, but, she didn’t follow through, growing restless and pulling the plug after ten minutes wallowing in the shallow depth.

Afterwards, she sat alone, lost in thought, glancing up every now and then, jolting from her thoughts, her eyes skimming around in search of danger and…

Jack.

But he wasn’t there.

As far as she knew, Jack had been sequestered in the infirmary since their return. She hadn’t managed to heal all his wounds, and despite his feeble protests that he was fine, Doctor Lam had given him that flat look, unyielding in her attempts to get him into her domain along with Mitchell, who had suffered to a lesser degree.

She refused to think that by not visiting the infirmary she was hiding from Jack. From what had happened, and the way he had given her that look that stated that as soon as he broke out of Lam’s clutches, they would be having a talk. She refused to admit that a part of her had wanted to escape _him_ more so than the SGC. Escape the feelings that had overwhelmed her when she had thought that he was going to die. After everything they had been through. She wasn’t admitting that though.

It was the SGC, she insisted internally. Not _Jack_.

It felt too enclosed.

If she was honest with herself, she would say that she just needed some time to think. Some space. From running. From danger. From Jack –if she was completely honest with herself.

But now, as she sat here in this quiet house, the only noise the humming of her refrigerator, she acknowledged the fact that she actually needed escape from this silence that gave her too much time to think, the memories of the last three months eating away at her insides, eroding her strength.

So much had happened, and so much had changed. But it hadn’t changed _here_. It hadn’t changed on _Earth_.

She was struggling with how to deal with this sudden transition back into this world with guidelines and safety all firmly in place. The edges not frayed, their world not torn like broken stitches in the fabric of their lives.

And she found herself thinking too much on everything that had happened between her and Jack. Complicating things like she couldn’t help herself, needing to outline and diagram what exactly it was that was happening between them.

She was afraid.

Of her feelings. Of the knowledge that he had been so close to retirement before they had been swept into turmoil.

They hadn’t spoken about it since the night he had told her in that broken down bedroom, hidden from patrols. She wasn’t even sure she should bring it up, or even how to do so.

She didn’t know what they were. If anything. What did those hopeless moments mean now that they were home?

_‘This wasn’t about giving up hope,’_

His whispered words in the fractured light of their one moment of physical contact berated her now, because she could recognise that he had been lying. It _had_ been about them losing hope.

Sam always tended to know when times were at their worst. It was a knowledge that was fenced by the oddly uncharacteristic fact that when things got their worst, she was finally honest with herself enough to notice the way that things between herself and Jack weren’t quite as innocent or explainable as she had forced herself to believe.

They would look at each other too openly. Let their instinct drive them.

What they had done on that planet was more than every moment before it however, decimating all of their careful barriers that they’d always had erected in case there were moments of silent admittance, to be swept away later with a well-timed ‘Sir’ or convenient memory loss. Or just plain ignoring the fact that what they felt for each other had been dictating their actions for years, but they had been -and still were- too stubborn to see that.

Now, Sam was seeing it. Clearly. And with that clarity, she could recognise all the times before where it should have been so obvious, but she had been determined to slip that proverbial elephant back under the rug instead of allowing it to set up shop in the corner of her mind, watching her with a brow raised in a disturbingly Teal’c like manner, as if it was daring her to face it.

Face what it all meant.

That she was in love with her Commanding Officer, and this time, she had to take the next step and bravely face the reality of ‘them’. Ignoring it now, after everything that had happened on that planet seemed too much like giving up to her, and she just couldn’t do it.

Doctor Lam was finishing up when she finally returned to the infirmary.

Jack was levering himself up off the infirmary bed he had been sitting on, his arm in a sling, when he saw her standing there. His movements paused for a moment, somewhere between struggling to his feet from his position and staying seated, his eyes assessing her with surprise –as if he hadn’t expected her to return at all.

Not that his assumption would have been unjustified. She really hadn’t planned to come back.

His features were a little pale, drawn with tension, eye still lividly bruised, chest wrapped in a stark white bandage under the shirt he hadn’t yet pulled down to cover it. Otherwise he looked good. Better than he had when she had seen him on the floor of that throne room, the flickering of blood and stillness shuttered in her mind, something she would push back to the depths of her mind to ignore another day. Another traumatic event to repress with all the others.

She had managed to heal everything but the remnants of his wounds. Given the extent of his previous injuries, he would have been comatose without the healing device’s help.

‘ _Or dead_ ,’ her mind ever-so helpfully added.

He knew she hated to use it. Hated to tap into that part of herself. Doctor Lam excused herself, leaving them alone when too much time passed without either of them saying anything.

“I thought you left already.” He said mildly, careful not to add too much undercurrent into his voice. He stood, calmly pulling his shirt down over his abdomen, standing upright, his arm only inhibiting him slightly. He shouldn’t be so unaffected by his injuries, but she knew that was due to the fact that he had been injured more than anyone else she knew, even before the Stargate program had started.

“I did.” She admitted, not taking her eyes off him –drinking him in. Injuries and all. Flaws and all.

“Are you…” She trailed off, somehow unable to finish the question.

“Fine. I’m fine. Little stiff –but otherwise I’m 100%.” He said, understating his obvious impairments.

“Vala could finish what I started.” She said, motioning to his arm, thinking that Vala had much more control over the healing device than she ever had. She wasn’t sure if that was because Vala had been host to a Goa’uld for longer than she had been host to Jolinar, or because the alien temptress was more open to the technology than she herself was.

“Nah.” He waved her off. “It’s just a few bruises, Carter.” He murmured, his arm a testament to the fact that it wasn’t ‘just a few bruises’.

“The others…?” he asked, falling back on a safe topic, his brow raised as he reached for the BDU jacket that he’d had laid on the end of the bed.

“Sg-1 are on stand down for two weeks.” She replied. He nodded shortly. That was all the information he needed.

They stood there a little awkwardly for a moment, his form one of absolute stillness, while she shifted to her other foot, not sure what to say. How to broach the subject that she so wanted to broach. Being back here, within the very walls that had forced them to be emotionally detached, some of which was a choice, made it hard to express anything beyond professional. The SGC was like a manifestation of the rules and regulations. Each grey surface a reminder of what they _couldn’t_ have. Too easily, she could let them slip back into that pattern, because he wouldn’t push her. No matter what he wanted himself. No matter how much she wished that he would.

“I think…”

“Are you…”

They both began, their words stunted, petering off into silence once more. A burning silence that seemed to thicken the very air around them. He grimaced and motioned her to continue with a casual rolling of his hand in her direction.

“Are you…heading back to D.C.?” She asked, hesitantly and his eyes shadowed with disappointment, like he had wanted her to say something else. To ask him something else. But she couldn’t break free from the strictures being back here provided. Being back here was like stepping back into their rolls of before, despite the tainted relationship that now defined them.

Nothing was the same and yet, everything was the same.

“Was planning on it. Unfinished business.” His eyes cut into her, and she knew without doubt what he was talking about. He was watching her carefully for a reaction.

“Unless you want me to…” He trailed off awkwardly, glancing towards the hallway. The way he did when he was unsure how to proceed. Like a boy in the shape of a man, facing something that was of emotional significance.

Silence again.

“Do you want to get off base?” She asked in a rush, feeling her heart stop for a moment. This shouldn’t feel so awkward. “I know General Landry set you up with some quarters before _everything_ …” She uselessly motioned vaguely towards the Stargate, trying to encompass everything in that one sweeping gesture. “…I just thought…fresh air…”

“Yes.” He interrupted abruptly. “I mean… _sure_. Fresh air…” The look he cast her was one of utmost gratefulness, her suggestion something he seemed pleased by despite his impassive, blasé attitude. He shifted slightly, his lips thinning in pain, his hand coming up to press to his ribs in discomfort which he immediately masked, glancing surreptitiously towards where Doctor Lam had gone as if he suspected she would try to tether him to the infirmary bed if he seemed to be in any great pain. Something he seemed determined to avoid.

“Let’s go.” He said, darting one last look towards Caroline’s office before walking towards the doors. She guessed that underneath everything, _he_ had needed escape too.

Somehow, that comprehension made her feel better.


	17. Above the surface

The elevator felt stifling, the distinct lack of a quick escape making her skin itch with that cold sinking feeling she often got of impending anxiety slipping down her spine. She forced herself to relax, forced herself not to look at Jack who was standing barely an arm’s length away from her, close enough to reach for if it was necessary, close enough that she didn’t feel like she was on the edge of a cliff, seconds away from a free fall.

The months leading up to this moment had changed her, and now that she was back it felt imperceptible. Like everything would just tilt back into normalcy now they were Earth-side.

But it felt ginormous to her here in this small space, especially with Jack standing beside her, and the longer she stood here travelling towards the surface, the more her heart seemed to slam into her chest, her breathing sawing in her ears and she had to acknowledge that maybe she needed some counselling after seeing what she had seen. Innocent people dying, a world getting torn apart from within just as perfectly as it had been torn apart by the Jaffa who had invaded. An apocalypse and a dead boy on a landing who would never see a bright future or a dawn not tinged with black.

And the painful fact that she and jack had succumbed to something that would not have happened if they had really believed that they were coming home, stepping back into this reality that was amazingly untainted after years of fighting and actually _winning_.

She couldn’t breathe. How was it fair that they should live?

Just when she thought she may just panic and throw herself at the emergency button to get the hell out of this claustrophobic space, Jack reached out his uninjured arm, his fingers closing around hers that she had somewhere along the way balled into a fist, easing her tension with his touch, drawing her from within herself.

She glanced at him, lifting her eyes to his face, and she realised he had been watching her, the firm hold he had on her hand and the steady gaze he cast her way telling her more than she suspected words could.

He knew.

He could read her better than anyone, even better now than before.

They were home. She didn’t have to fear the future. Didn’t have to be on guard.

Despite it calming her panic to know that he was still standing beside her, still a sturdy presence right next to her, always having her back, the realisation that things had changed so drastically in the last few months between them made her feel even more tethered.

They had come together in a place ripe with death and destruction, of hollowed eyes gazing at them without hope for survival or redemption from the deep pit of defilation those people had sunk into, and the fact that this thing right here between them had started in such a dark and unclean circumstance made it feel _tainted_ to her now.

Didn’t they deserve more? Didn’t this relationship deserve some kind of purity?

She felt no purity. But she wanted to find a way to feel it, because somewhere along the way, whatever this thing was, it had become essential to her being.

Backing out now would feel a little like she was leaving him behind and that was just unacceptable despite the fear she felt at stepping over that invisible line curving between them like some hopeless abyss filled with missed chances.

She would work through this. She had to. Despite the fact that _them_ together was different than she had considered it would be even three months ago, it was still them _together_ , and hadn’t she wanted that?

He seemed to know she was questioning this, but he said nothing, just lowered his lashes slightly, his fingers squeezing around hers, a silent reassurance in a way.

The space didn’t seem so enclosed anymore.

*******************************

Coming out of the mountain they both stilled momentary at the vibrant blue sky above, devoid of ash clouds or smoke spirals that hinted at fires on the horizon. Peace. They had both expected to see destruction, as if a part of them had remained behind on that planet –her earlier escape from the base seeming detached and still so cold in comparison. Like she hadn’t been ready to see the differences. Maybe she had just needed Jack by her side to really appreciate it all for what it was

  _Home_.

They stood there, side by side, looking quite odd to the soldier’s on duty. Two superior officers staring off into the distance, like they could see some other image in their periphery. Their expressions haunted.

Sam wasn’t sure what to do now. Go home to her quiet house; watch Jack get on a plane to return to D.C. She wasn’t sure she was ready for him to be gone yet. So many things had become redundant, and by going their separate ways now, it was like they were just stepping back within the lines of the rules and decorum. Colour in the lines instead of drawing outside the borders. Who said the background couldn’t be coloured?

Outside the lines could be just as beautiful as in.

They had seen that.

“Don’t go yet.” She said softly from beside him, not even taking a moment to glance at him as the sunlight warmed her face after what felt like an age lost in shadows. It didn’t feel as good as she had thought it might, but it felt… _better_.

They both knew that their pieces may never be put back together again if they allowed themselves to drift apart now. Like a broken bone not set, forced to heal disjointed. There was no way they would ever fit back together in quite the same way.

“All you had to do was ask, Carter.” He said, a slight smile that still didn’t quite rise to his eyes tipping his mouth.

Her tension began to drain away.

Sometimes it felt like they were separated by an entire galaxy, but, on some rare occasions, a doorway would open up between them, and suddenly, a galaxy apart didn’t seem so far. One step though that metaphorical wormhole, and they were standing face to face, no iris standing between them. It was just him, her…and a whole lot of trees.

She had the odd thought that this represented hope. Oxygen. Life.

She took a deep breath.


	18. Epilogue

Jack sat on the porch, his mind still on that other ravaged planet, his eyes seeing nothing but the destruction. Nothing but those people who would never be the same. He vaguely realised that in spirit he was one of them, because nothing had affected him the way that those months had.

Something about the lost dregs of a society struggling to rebuild after a disaster.

Their faith had been shaken to the core, and he saw the haunted expressions on those innocent faces, the way they had been unable to see the brightness of a future that was untarnished by the demands and oppression of the Goa’uld. They had freed them, but…it had been too late. The damage had already been done.

He doubted anyone there wasn’t plagued by the loss of someone they loved.

He was pulled from his thoughts as Carter sat down at his side, handing him an opened beer bottle, taking a long draught of her own.

“It doesn’t seem fair.” She said after a moment, her eyes looking out over her front lawn. Her neighbourhood sat untouched, the houses unmarred by the singes of staff blast fire, the sounds of people laughing and living carrying to them on the wind, children playing down the street.

It was untouched by death and destruction, and all he could see was a transformation of the houses and streets, could imagine that what he had seen on that other planet was merely a prediction of what would happen here.

He swore then it wouldn’t.

“We come back here to our lives, and they…” She trailed off, looking down at her hands, fingers picking at the beer label. There was so much people took for granted. What they did –what they sacrificed- giving people on Earth the ability to live free.

“I know.” He said. He knew that he should tell her not to dwell. To move on. To get past the desolation of the people they had left behind there, like stray dogs, mangy and hungry, eyes haunted with grief and images of their own destruction playing out in the whites of their eyes.

She leaned back in the wooden chair and rested her head against his shoulder as the sun set over the tops of the houses across the street, and he glanced down, seeing her eyes close as she rested there.

He didn’t move. Didn’t even move to lift the beer to his lips. This was okay. Because he guessed this was what he had needed.

“And they may never know peace again.” She said, turning her face slightly, her cheek against his shoulder.

Jack knew that he should say something to quell her sadness, but there was nothing he could say. Nothing felt right enough, because when he closed his eyes, he could still see that boy lying dead on that landing.

And he grieved, because it _wasn’t_ fair that they could sit here now in relative safety, the nightmares of the last few months unknown by the people around them, the people on Earth. That they could watch the sun setting on the horizon, knowing that it would rise again the next day when it would probably never rise again in the eyes of those refugees from a dying world.

He wondered if they would ever leave that dark place. Look back at everything as a close call in their history. Remember all those who had died when that enemy had attacked.

He felt the moisture against his shoulder, seeing the tear that had fallen to his shoulder from her closed eyes, allowed to fall.

One tear.

Because if she shed more, he knew she thought it would be a weakness. _And they’ may never know peace again_.

“But we will.” He said, leaning his head down, her eyes opening to look up at him.

“I think that’s the main problem. That we will.” She said.

He reached out and smoothed her hair back from her cheek, watching the tenderness enter her eyes at his uncharacteristic touch of comfort. The softness of her hair as he allowed himself to touch the pale strands.

“I’m sorry Sam.” He whispered softly as the sun completely gave way to the dimness of dusk.

She nodded, swallowing before she lifted her hand to cover his on her face, her eyes drifting closed once more as if trying to sink into his touch, trying to make her forget with his skin so simply pressed against hers. Her fingers flexed around his hand.

“I don’t think I’m ever going to forget.” She said softly, her voice breaking.

“Yeah, but eventually, you’ll remember and hopefully not see death, but the fact they survived.”

 _Just like we did_.

She nodded and he drew her into his arms, feeling her warmth radiate through his side, calming him when he had thought nothing could, his heart beating steadily under her palm as she clenched her fist in his shirt.

They sat there, not moving, trying to hide away the fear and the loss and the heart-ache that mission had provoked from them.

Because it had affected them. More than anything else.

Maybe it hadn’t been about saving their own world, maybe it had always been about seeing other worlds succumb to oppression and be able to walk away in the aftermath.

Because their world was still free.

They had walked away, but that little boy…like a tribute to the rest of that world, stuck in their heads. He was their reminder.

That child had made it personal.

The human sides of themselves had seen him and had mourned his loss. Because it wasn’t fair. Maybe they’d never forget –but darkness, like pain and grief, sometimes could be suppressed under the grey edge of dawn.

.fin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading.


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